


Well, Shit

by kalpa



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Humor, Comedy, Dad Soldier: 76 | Jack Morrison, Depression, Drugs, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Mind Control, OC, Original Character(s), POV Second Person, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Psychological Trauma, Reader-Insert, Romance, Slow Burn, TRIGGER WARNING- Mentions of suicide, TRIGGER WARNING- Talkings of anxiety, TRIGGER WARNING- Talkings of depression, Torture, Trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-17
Updated: 2018-04-09
Packaged: 2018-08-22 22:14:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 22
Words: 130,124
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8303153
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kalpa/pseuds/kalpa
Summary: After being attacked by a Terrorist organization, you find yourself 60 years in the future. Traumatized yet determined, you rise from the ashes to find your place in this new, scary world.-------A reader-insert in which the reader is targeted by a terrorist organization hellbent on creating a super-human, but upon being caught, you find yourself in 2076; suspected dead and wanted by every organization for their own purposes; including making you theirs.--------Story isn't complete and won't be continued! Thank you for your support <3





	1. Mom's Spaghetti

**Author's Note:**

> uh hi  
> I've never done one of these before, but it seemed fun  
> i hope you guys like it? i didn't really like the description but hopefully the story is better than the description!  
> also, id like to thank and give credit to the authors kirakuin and shusalixsmiles as their wonderful fanfics helped me feel inspired to start writing again! go check them out ! they're works are wonderful  
> TRIGGER WARNING-  
> a shooting  
> blood  
> violence  
> ENJOY!!!

“And how are you doing?” 

He adjusted his glasses, sliding them up his rather large nose as he looked at you, expecting an answer but not pressing the time. His khaki covered legs were crossed, hands on his knees in a position of comfort but also expectancy. He looked like a therapist, and you guessed he was, but you didn’t really accept the fact you were seeing a therapist, that you needed help. 

So you did what you always did; lied. “I’m doing good,” you suggested, adjusting your position in the orange chair. You leaned back into the chair, trying to appear comfortable and calm but failing with the tightness in the corner of your lips and the wideness of your eyes. 

You therapist wasn’t dumb, spending years in college to earn his degree. You knew that, but you tried anyway. Why did you try anyways?

Your therapist sighed, taking off his glasses and cleaning them with a shake of his head. “Y/N, we both know that’s a lie,” he sighed, exasperated with your action. At first, he’d been accepting, understanding your refusal to admit you have a problem, that you need help. But as time wore on, and your words never changed, he did. He began to expect something to change from you too, and while he didn’t press your time for an answer, he began to press for a change in your answer. 

When you woke up every Tuesday morning and looked at yourself in the mirror, you told yourself you would open up, finally tell him. Tell him how you couldn’t eat, how you slept too much or sometimes too little. Tell him how you hated your body, how you hated yourself. Tell him how it was getting harder to talk to your friends, and they began to text you less and less, their names getting increasingly longer dates from when you last texted each other. 

Tell him how small and insignificant you felt, how you wished to be someone, to do something. To meet a girl or guy, or anyone for that matter. 

“I’m not lying,” you replied with a small smile, a breathless reply. 

He put his glasses back on, looking at you with narrowed eyes, but you kept smiling. Hold it for a few more moments, you told yourself. If you hold it, when he looks to his notes, you can drop it, let it show. 

And he did just that, shaking his head as he looked down to the notepad in his lap and reading over it for a few moments. You took the opportunity to drop the facade, looking outside for a reminder that just 30 more minutes, and you’ll be out again.

And today was a special day. 

“You said your birthday was (Your Birth Date), correct?” he asked you, and you looked back to him, nodding. He smiled, removing his glasses entirely. “Happy birthday then, (Y/N),” he told you and a smile returned to your face, but now it was real. You were genuinely pleased it was your birthday, but you couldn’t help the negative thoughts as well. 

Another year older, another year spent doing nothing you promised yourself that you would do. No changes, nothing of importance. Failed relationships, failed friendships. 

Failures. 

“Thank you,” you replied and he hummed in acknowledgement. 

“Any special plans? A party, a night out?” he asked you, and you shrugged, shifting in your seat. 

“Ah, kind of,” you told him and he looked at you, urging you to continue. “My friends are taking me shopping at 5,” you said, and he looked to his watch, and you looked at the wall clock. It was 2:32, the appointment ending at 3:00. That gave you two hours to get ready, to criticize yourself in the mirror in a desperate attempt to look decent. 

“That sounds fun,” your therapist said and you nodded, tucking your hair behind your ear. 

“Yeah,” you agreed and you saw his eyes narrow, picking you apart. He could read the vibes you emitted, the way your posture betrayed your facade. He could probably see the sweat on your forehead, the tiny crease between your eyebrows when he brought up your friends. 

He took a deep breath. “How are things between you and your friends?” he asked you and you ignored the dread in your stomach. He was good at his job, picking at your problems in an attempt to pry you open. 

“Fine, I guess,” you nonchalantly told him and he hummed in disbelief. “Really,” you assured him. 

“You sure?” he asked you, and you looked to your phone, pressing the home button to see if anyone had wished you a happy birthday. 

(Friend’s Name) -  _ Sorry, calling a raincheck! I’m not feeling good :(  _

You turned off your phone, looking back at your therapist with a smile. 

“Yeah.”

 

When you got home, you trudged up the steps to your apartment, texting back your friend. 

_ Oh, it’s fine. Feel better soon !  _

With a sigh, you went to unlock your apartment but dropped your keys. You looked down at the offensive object with a look of disgust, throwing your head back with a groan. 

“That was fucking rude,” you hissed to the key, before bending down to retrieve it. When you stood back up, you saw a man across the street, staring at you with his hands in his pockets. You frowned, heart stuttering in your chest from the fear and panic you felt. He was far enough for you to not feel the need to call the police, but still get the goosebumps. You debated turning around so he didn’t know what apartment you lived in, but when you turned around to get back in your car, you looked behind you to only see he was gone. 

“What. The. Fuck,” you hissed to yourself, running your hands through your hair with a sigh. Shaking your head, deciding you were just fucking crazy, you unlocked your apartment and stepped in, kicking your shoes off to the corner and setting your keys down on the small table besides the door. 

There was the soft patter of feet running towards you and you smiled, seeing your (Favorite kind of dog) running towards you, tail wagging rapidly and tongue hanging out of their mouth. “Hey there,” you said, leaning down to pet their head. They sat in front of you, content as you pet them until you decided to move on. “I have to get ready,” you told them, and they stepped aside as you walked into your bedroom, letting them jump up onto your bed. They dropped their hand onto their paws, watching you throw open your closet to look for something to wear. 

“So, Justice,” you sighed, and they perked their ears up at the sound of their name. You pulled out a black t-shirt with your favorite band’s design on it, and a tight, black tank top. “Casual, or edgy?” you asked Justice, and they tilted their head to the side, clearly perplexed by the question. “Hmm…” you sighed, before throwing the shirt onto the bed beside your dog. “Know what? I’m feeling edgy!” you declared. “I’m gonna go out of the my comfort zone, you know why? Cuz it’s my fucking birthday!” you said to Justice who barked in support. You grinned before pulling out some tight, black jeans and a camo jacket. 

You ran into the bathroom, not caring to close the door as Justice was the only one nearby. Unless… You thought of the weird stalker guy, and decided to close and lock the door this time with a deep breath and a shake of your head. No perverts allowed. 

After a few moments, you stepped out and looked at yourself in the mirror. At first, you smiled, until you noticed that one area you didn’t like, how it seemed you were begging for attention. You bit your lip, dropping the pose you’d thrown yourself into. Why did you look like that? 

With a groan, you ripped off your shirt, throwing it into the corner of your room and turning your back to the mirror, ashamed. “Dammit!” you hissed, unzipping your jeans and kicking them off into the corner. Justice watched you with alarmed eyes, not understanding the change in your mood and why you were upset.

You flopped back onto the bed next to Justice, hands covering your eyes as you sighed again, muttering a soft curse. “Why do I look like that?” you asked the air, and no surprise, you got no reply. After a few moments, you felt the soft touch of fur on your tummy, and you removed your hands to see Justice laying their head on you with wide eyes. A soft smile came to your face as you scratched behind their ears, earning whatever smile a dog can have. 

“At least you care,” you whispered and Justice licked your hand, earning another scratch behind the ear. “Well, I have to get ready,” you sighed and sat up, Justice scooting over. With a frown, you looked towards your disheveled clothing before shaking your head, grabbing the t shirt on your bed, some jeans and the camo jacket from before. It wasn’t too edgy, anyways. 

After a few moments, you were dressed and returned to the bathroom to do your makeup, trying not to be too harsh on yourself. You did your usual routine, and after being pleased with your appearance, you returned to your room. To your surprise, you had a text message, but it was from your mother. With a smile you opened the text, reading it. 

_ Mom :P - Be careful tonight, sweetie. There’s been reports of strange activity in your neighborhood.  _

Rolling your eyes, you replied. 

_ You- Like killer clowns?  _

_ Mom- Yes, like killer clowns. Just be safe, kk? Love you. So proud of you.  _

Your heart warmed at her words, and you ignored the happy tears in your eyes. At least your mom loved you more than anyone else, besides your dad anyways. 

_ You- Yeah, yeah. Don’t get too sappy on me mom. Love you too.  _

Turning off your phone, you sat down next to Justice, who licked your hand. “So, what should we do while wait…” You looked at your phone, turning it on for the time. It was 3:30. “For another hour and a half?” you asked Justice, and they wagged their tail 

“I know…” You grinned, getting off your bed and running into the living room. Justice came after you in interest before jumping up and sitting next to you on the couch. “Netflix!” you declared and Justice panted happily as you turned on the TV. 

“Hell yeah!” 

 

There was a ring on your doorbell, and you checked your phone, seeing that it was 4:45. You frowned, not seeing a text from any of your friends that were coming for a shopping spree but shrugged. Must’ve forgotten to text you. 

Justice looked to the door and barked. You hushed them, irritated with their behavior. They rarely barked. Justice whined, spinning around but you shook your head. “It’s probably just (friend #1).” They whined again and you rolled your eyes, pulling on your Black Converse. You patted your back pocket to double check your wallet was tucked away, sighing once you noticed it was still there. “One minute!” you called, and there was no response. 

Huffing some hair out of your face, you opened the door to see a man with a black hood pulled over his head. You frowned, before recognizing him as the man who had been watching you. “You need to stay here,” he told you under his breath, and you frowned. 

What…

“The fuck?” you finished out loud and he looked around in fear. “Who the fuck are you? What the hell are you doing stalking me?” you hissed, shoving your finger into his chest. His jaw tightened at your action and you glared at him, not backing down. 

“I’m trying to warn you, (Y/N),” he whispered and you scoffed. 

“Oh from what? Killer clowns?” you mocked and he rolled his eyes. But you stiffened when you realized he knew your name. “Wait… how the fuck do you know who I am?” you growled, crossing your arms. Justice peaked out from behind you growling. You didn’t blame them. 

The man looked at Justice, licking his lips nervously. “There’s bad people out here, (Y/N). You need to stay here,” he told you.

You snorted, rolling your eyes again. “Why? So you can fucking rape me?” you hissed and his eyes widened. “Know what? I’m calling the fucking cops,” you told him as you pulled your phone out of your pocket, but a hand grasped your wrist, causing you to drop it. Justice growled viciously and the man pulled you outside, shutting your door in your dog’s face. “Just-” you began, trying to turn around but the man stopped you, leaning close to your face.

He looked serious, and scared, eyes wide and pupils dilated. You could see the strands of green in the brown of his iris, and you as though time stopped. “(your first and last name), you are in danger. There are men looking for you under the name ‘ Vormachtstellung”,  a German pro-Nazi group hellbent on taking over-”

There was the sound of a car approaching, and you both looked up to see your friend’s car approaching, and the grip on your wrist disappeared. By the time you looked back to see the man, he was gone, and you rubbed at where his hand was. Your friend’s car stopped in your driveway, and they honked, knocking you back into reality. 

With a shaky breath, you descended the stairs and got into their car, only to see two other friend’s (friend #1 and #2) in the backseat. “Happy birthday!” they yelled and you smiled the best you could. 

“Thanks guys!” you said, and (friend #1) who was driving winked at you. 

“Ready?” they asked you and you nodded. 

“Sure.”

You all pulled out of the driveway, speeding off towards the nearest and biggest outlet mall, forgetting two things; your keys, and your phone, lit up with a message. 

_ Mom- Hey sweetie, there was a shooting in your neighborhood, and the suspects haven’t been caught. Please be safe, k?  _

_ Mom- (Y/N)?  _

 

You pulled into a parking spot, stopping after a moment of straightening out due to (friend #1)’s abysmal driving skills. When you commented on it, they stuck their tongue out at you before stepping out. You followed suit, looking around to see the crowds. “Busy tonight,” you commented and (friend #1) wrapped their arm around you, before stopping you. Everyone gathered around you, and you noticed (friend #2) holding something behind their back, giggling. 

“What’s that?” you asked, and your friends looked at each other before revealing their secret. There was a small box in their palm and you reached forward, taking it. You opened it, revealing a credit card and… “Is that…?” you trailed off, and they nodded, and you broke out in a grin. 

It was a book, and upon opening it you saw a scrapbook of pictures and memories dating back to when you all first met in college or highschool. You smiled, looking up them and hugging them all. “Thank you so much,” you said, and they all shrugged humbly. “Now, what’s up with this credit card?” you asked them and there was now a smirk, completely betraying their so called “modesty”. 

“$750,” (friend #2) said, and you looked at them with wide eyes. They nodded, and (friend #2) continued. “Everyone pitched in so you can have a good time,” they told you and you grinned, nearly bouncing with excitement. You hugged them all again, thanking them before sequaling. 

You looked at (Friend #3) with a grin and they returned it. “Lush?” you asked and they fist pumped the air. “Lush!” you both cheered before rushing off together, and (friend #2) yelled at you two to wait up. 

“I’ll just chill out here for a while! Come find me when you’re done!” (friend #1) yelled and you waved in the air to acknowledge them, knowing very well they would be shopping in the video game shop right at the entrance. 

Giddy with excitement, you and your two other friend’s ran into the lush store, you pocketing your scrapbook in your coat pocket along with your credit card. You took a deep breath as you entered, in heaven at the scent of the bath bombs and other goodies. 

You were so happy you forgot about the strange man from before, losing yourself in the back in the dozens of bath bombs. (Friend #2) was at the front talking to an associate, surely another friend, while (Friend #3) was back at the bath bombs with you, smelling them and pocketing them in the small lush bags. 

You forgot about the strange man until you heard gunshots outside, close enough to make you drop the bath bomb in your hand, causing it to crash and ruin the floor. It seemed as though time stopped as you and everyone else in the store stared at the front of the store, hearts stopping together in unison as everyone held their breath. Goosebumps prickled your skin, and you suddenly remembered you forgot your phone and your keys, hands on your back pocket. You remembered the stalker’s guy’s words, and your mom’s texts. You remembered everything you had done wrong.

_ Oh my god,  _ you thought.  _ I’m gonna die a fucking virgin.  _

You looked to your friend beside you, who looked to you. It seemed the world had stopped itself for a shared moment of silence, waiting for the next decision that could end lives, or save lives. 

You chose the latter as you saw a man with a shotgun walk in front of Lush, your eyes widening. “Get down!” someone yelled, and you did just that, dropping onto your stomach so hard you lost your breath. There were screams, some cut off after the sound of a few gunshots. Glass shattered, and you shielded your face as there was a deafening ring in your ears. After a few moments you opened your eyes, not realizing you’d closed them only to see your friend staring at you with wide eyes, behind the cashier’s counter. You saw that their pants was soaked from urine, and the bath bomb you had dropped fizzled as the urine made contact. 

Huh, that was cool. 

There was another gunshot and you tried to get to your feet, only to lose your balance and fall beside your friend. You looked at each other again before you held your hand over your mouth, quieting your breathing. 

It was quiet for a few moments, and your friend looked at you before nodding their head to the store. Your eyes widened and you shook your head furiously, not wanting them to see if it was clear. But they disregarded you, moving beyond the counter. Your heart was hammering in your chest as tears bubbled to your eyes, trying to keep yourself from sobbing as you inched closer to the end of the counter. 

It was quiet, and you couldn’t help but see if it was clear, or if your friend was okay. You peaked out, only to see your friend skid to a stop, raising their arms with a loud, “Wait no, please don’t” only to be interrupted by a loud gunshot, body dropping onto the ground. You pressed yourself back up against the counter. Thank baby Jesus you had peed at 4:30, or else the crushed bath bombs on the ground would all be fizzling and giving you away right then and there. 

After a few more moments, there was a commotion and loud yelling. Your eyes widened It was your other friend, and you peeked above the counter in fear only to see a woman pulling your other friend’s hair, gun pressed against their temple. They looked to you after a moment of screaming and sobbing, begging for mercy. 

“No mercy,” the woman hissed, and your friend’s lips opened, trying to say something but a gunshot cut them off, eyes going blank as they went limp. The woman dropped them, a dull thud on the ground. You dropped back down, tears rushing down your face.

Holy shit, holy shit. 

They were dead. 

And you… you did nothing. 

“Secure the store,” a man’s voice commanded, and you felt cold as you realized you would be seen. There was no way out, unless… 

You looked to the other end of the counter, seeing a black door that said “Employees only”. Shit, you needed a key. Biting your lip, you looked down to see a Lush employee on the ground, blood pooling around their body slowly but steadily. You furrowed your eyebrows, resisting the urge to gag as you crawled over, trying to not touch the blood but ultimately failing. It was warm, and...dirty. So dirty. 

The girl’s name was Katy, a young girl with beautiful long hair and the most beautiful green eyes. You shook your head, swallowing your vomit as you reached into her pockets to secure a key. Something cold was in your palm and you pulled it out, looking up to the door. You now had to unlock the door, which you could do while still crouching, but sneaking out would get their attention.

You had to do this quick, and you had one chance to get it right.

No “restart” like in all those video games. No asking for a retake on a test you failed. 

Only death. 

So with the shake of your head, you turned only to close Katy’s eyes, a soft prayer under your breath, a wish for her to rest in peace. You crawled over to the door, balancing yourself on the balls of your feet as you shoved the key into the lock. It glided in, and you looked to see if anyone had noticed you. As far as you were concerned, no one had seen you, and so you took a deep breath, calming yourself the best you could as you turned the key. You felt a click through the doorknob, and you wrapped your other hand around the handle. 

With a deep breath, you stood up and flung the door open, grabbing the key and closing the door as quickly as you could. There was a gunshot and wood flew off of the doorway and scratched you. With a cry you tried to close the door, but something wrapped around your coat, dragging you back. “I have her!” a woman yelled, and you threw your arms up, dropping out of your coat. The woman disappeared, and you threw the door shut with as much force as possible. You cursed, locking the door and backing up. 

Now you were in the stockroom, but you were still at odds. Looking around, you found a few racks of products and pulled them down in front of the door, hopefully buying you more time. Pleased, you ran through the stockroom to the back “emergency” door, flinging it open which resulted in a loud alarm blaring. 

Great, just fucking great. 

You just announced to the terrorists “Hey! I’m here! Come fucking shoot me!”

You didn’t care though. You just turned and ran towards where you had parked, adrenaline hot in your veins as you pumped your arms faster than you ever had, even during the fitness gram pacer test. 

You turned the corner, seeing your friend’s care. Relief spread through you and you ran even faster, seeing the car making you realize you could get out of here. You just had to find (friend #1) and then you two could get out of here and- 

Something caught your foot, making you roll onto the ground, scraping your arms and ripping your jeans on your knee. A wet, hot liquid coated you, yet it was nothing to throbbing in your skull. You groaned, opening your eyes and rubbing your head only to see your friend. 

Blood trickled down between their eyes, blank and dead as they peered at you. 

“(friend’s name)?” you whispered, and there was no response. You shakily got to your feet, seeing blood dripping off of your fingers. You looked down before looking up, the world dull as you saw the barrel of a gun pointed at you. 

“(Y/N)?” the man asked, and you couldn’t reply. You opened your mouth, but nothing came out. You only felt the droplets of blood roll down your body, seeping through your clothes. Tears were pointless, gone with the bodies on the floor and the lives ended in this mall. 

Another man approached from behind the first man, shaking his head. “That’s not her. Our last source told us she had a jacket on,” he said, and you remembered the woman from before. 

“What about her shirt? She was reported to wear the same one,” the man who had the gun at her said, and the man shook his head.

“She doesn’t own that shirt. When we went through her closet on run 3, there was no shirt as she has on,” the man who his superior said, and the man with the gun nodded. “Open fire,” he said.

You were gonna die just because of your fucking fashion choices.

Great. 

You threw your hands up in a desperate attempt to do...what? Grab the bullet? Deflect it? 

You squeezed your eyes shut, waiting for the pain, for the end. 

But nothing happened. 

You opened your eyes, hands still in front of you only to see…

What the fuck. 

You looked around you, seeing a blue sky with a number of clouds happily drifting by. Was this heaven? You frowned, looking down to still see yourself covered in blood. What the fuck? Wasn’t heaven like... nice enough to give you not-bloodstained clothing? But upon looking up from your clothes, you saw you weren’t in a fluffy cloud place in the name of Jesus. 

You were standing just outside of a large circle with large pieces of metal with words and and engravings on them. A frown came on your face, and you slowly stepped forward into the circle. In the middle of the circle was a statue of a man lifting a child off of the ground with a woman in his other hand, a horrified look on his face as blood dripped off of the child and woman. 

“In memory of October 1, 2016” 

That was today, wasn’t it? 

You looked around you, not understanding what the fuck was going on. Was this Jesus’ way of trolling her or some shit? 

Shaking your head you saw the large metal objects, seeing words written on them. There was a large heading above all these words, or names, upon further inspection. It said “In memory of” and you bit your lip. You walked closer, narrowing your eyes, seeing one of your friend’s names. It was the friend with the last name closest to A, so it was in alphabetical order. 

Your breath hitched, and you turned around manically, trying to find your friend’s names. It had happened. They were dead. Was this heaven’s way of showing you that you were dead? Even in death you were just a small name on a plague, nothing important. 

But even that didn’t matter… You found your friend’s names, but not yours. 

You scoffed, biting back the tears that came to your eyes. 

Wow, what a dick move. 

But you turned and went back to the statue, seeing a smaller metal object at the foot of the soldier. You bent down, trying to read it better. 

“In memory of those whom we did not find; 

(Y/N)” 

You stepped back, shaking your head, laughing without humor. What the fuck? If you weren’t dead, then where the hell were you? You must’ve gotten shot. You heard the man pull the damn trigger, so where were you? Was it a tranquilizer, knocking you out into a drug induced dream? 

This didn’t make any sense. 

There was a scream behind you, and you turned to a see a woman stepping back in fear at the sight of you. Some people ran over to her to see what was wrong, and stopped to gawk at you upon noticing you in all your bloody glory. 

Why were these people dressing so weird? And what was that man tapping to call the police? And why...why the hell were there robots? 

You laughed, dropping to your knees to drop your head into your hands. 

There were the sound of sirens pretty quickly, and there was a large crowd of people gathered near the women, and even around the circle, or memorial. You didn’t mind their stares, though. You merely sat there, staring at the sky, watching the clouds drift by. 

It was only when a woman in a uniform stepped towards you did you finally look away, turning your attention towards her. 

“Shock,” a man whispered somewhere nearby, and you guessed that explained the numbness you felt, the goosebumps on your skin and the cold sweat staining your clothes. 

“What’s your name?” she asked you, offering you her hand. 

You looked to the woman’s hand, and back to her eyes. 

“(Y/N),” you said, and her eyes widened, mouth ajar as she looked behind you. 

“Holy shit,” a man said, and you agreed. 

Holy. Shit. 


	2. Uh Oh

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The reader copes with the new world, and faces a new threat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay so first of all, i just wanna say that this fic will be rather serious. it will tackle topics of mental illnesses and torture, so if you're not comfortable with any of that then please be warned!  
> the reader will deal with the mental trauma, and so on.   
> but besides that, on we go!

 

It became silent once more, but this time it was tense. There were unanswered questions lingering in the air. You could feel them pressing against your skin, leaving a mark of where they insistently digged into you. 

“Why me?” you whispered, unable to stop yourself. You meant for it to come out strong, to display your anger. But instead, you sounded weak and fragile, like a small child after war destroyed their country and their family, spitting them back out alone and too old for their body. There were tears in your eyes, and you blinked them away, clearing your throat. 

The woman didn’t say anything for a while, leaving the silence to the soft hum of the ambulance and the sounds of the city you couldn’t see. Your thoughts made up for the quiet however, vicious and unforgiving in wake of the horror you’d just seen. 

“I don’t know,” the woman finally said, and you looked back over to her with wide eyes, and saw the comforting smile on her face. You nodded, accepting her answer.

The ambulance came to a stop, and the woman stood up as much as she could. “Okay, we’re here,” she told you, and you heard the driver get out. The doors to the ambulance were pulled open, shedding bright light upon you. You squinted at the sight, eyes adjusting the scene you were being greeted by. The man who you assumed was the driver was preparing to get you down, but you weren’t focused on him. 

There were doctors behind him, looking at you with inquisitive eyes. Discomfort made your hairs stand up underneath the blood that caked your skin, and you shrank back into the gurney, pulling the blanket around you tighter than before. The woman noticed, placing a hand on your shoulder. “They just want to help,” she told you and you nodded, swallowing roughly. “It’s rather rare we get a patient from 60 years ago,” she joked, and you smiled the best you could under the current circumstances. 

Finally, the gurney you were on was out of the ambulance, exposing you to your surroundings. You weren’t overwhelmed. No, you were fast past overwhelmed. You felt as though you were a child, a baby who had only been in their own for the first years of their lives. It was as though you were on a new planet, the only similarity of your world and this new one being the blue sky. 

There were skyscrapers still too, yet now they stretched beyond the clouds. The cars were no longer on the ground, instead hovering. And the air… It was crisp, cold in your lungs as though it were winter. 

“Pollution was reduced by the elimination of carbon emissions,” the driver of the ambulance told you, and you looked at him with wide eyes, a small smile on your face. 

“Finally,” you sighed, and he chuckled before wheeling you into the hospital. 

The room you were brought into was advanced, that was sure. Yet at the same time, it felt as though it resembled the rooms from your time more so than the others. There was a TV that operated just as it did in 2016, and there was a monitor of your vitals that had the steady beeping. It was calming when you were brought into it, and the panic you’d felt in your chest was soothed. 

After a few minutes of a nurse taking your vitals, another woman entered your room with a soft smile on her face. She closed the door to your room behind her, setting her papers and books on a table off to the side. “Hello, (Y/N), my name is Michelle,” she said, not reaching for your hand, which at first struck you as odd until you felt a sharp prick in your right arm. You hissed and looked over to see that the nurse had set up your I.V. Smart. 

“Hello,” you replied, unsure of what to say. Had manners and etiquette changed over the past 6 decades? You weren’t sure, so you awkwardly went with the flow in hopes you weren’t an asshole on accident. Michelle understood though, nodding and picking up her papers to flip through them. 

“Well, your vitals are normal, and with a treatment or two of our healing technology, your scrapes should be gone,” she told you, and you furrowed your eyebrows, looking at where your body hurt only to see dried blood caking your skin. Michelle followed your gaze, nodding. “I understand how uncomfortable you must be. Would you like to take a shower now under surveillance of your nurse, or would you like to be cleared mentally and take one by yourself?” she asked you and a frown reappeared on your face. Why did you have to be watched while taking a shower? Did they think you were gonna kill yourself? 

“Why can’t I take one by myself?” you asked Michelle, and she sighed, sitting on a table. 

“We don’t know your mental condition as of right now, especially after the most recent occurrences,” she explained, and you looked down to your hands, seeing the blood yet again. Did they know about your therapist? They must’ve if they’d conducted a search for you after not finding your body at the mall. Was that why they didn’t believe you would be okay? 

You snickered mentally. 

You didn’t even believe you would be okay. Where would you go from here? Would you be kept in the hospital for years to come, monitoring your condition as closely as possible in an attempt to understand your abilities? Or would they let you go out into the world, a world that you left for 60 years, a name rusting in stone? 

This world wasn’t yours anymore. Hell, it never even had been back in 2016. You yearned for the comfort of knowing what was popular, of what to do with each day of your life. But you couldn’t have it. 

You could never have it again. 

“I’m fine,” you told her, but Michelle didn’t buy it, only offering a soft smile and a nod. You realized you wouldn’t get anywhere by begging, so you sighed. “Fine, may I take a shower?” you asked and Michelle nodded, looking to the nurse. 

“Oh, you don’t have to do that,” another woman’s voice said, and you looked to the entrance to your room with surprised eyes. There was a woman there with long black hair and kind eyes, looking at you with an understanding you hadn’t felt before. Well, that was a lie. The comfort you felt was the same kind you felt in your therapist’s office after a long week. 

This must be the social worker. 

“Oh, Lucy,” Michelle said, standing up and collecting her papers. “I wasn’t sure when you would get here,” she said, and Lucy nodded, stepping into the room. 

“I’ll take it from here,” Lucy said, winking at you. Michelle looked back at you for a moment before stepping out of the room, the nurse closely following. Once you and Lucy were the last people in the room, she closed the door and pulled the blinds, granting privacy. 

“I’m Lucy, one of the hospital’s social workers,” she said, holding out her hand for you to shake it. You looked at the body part in surprise before looking back up to her face. She was expecting a handshake, and so you did just that, feeling bad for the blood that flaked off onto her skin. Once she saw your condition she frowned, shaking her head. “They didn’t shower you?” she asked. 

You shook your head. “They thought I’d go crazy and kill myself,” you told her and she nodded in response. 

“Well, will you?” Lucy asked, and you shook your head, picking at some of the dried blood on your arm. She wasn’t satisfied with your answer and took a seat on the bed, sighing. “You know... when you went missing, (Y/N), I was just a little girl. I was nine, actually,” she told you and you looked surprised, causing her to smile. Lucy didn’t look old, the only wrinkles being laughter lines. “One of the nice things about being in the future is that there’s anti-aging,” she joked and you couldn’t help but smile. 

Maybe you would’ve used that technology. After all, you would be in your seventies if you hadn’t been killed or gone missing. The thought made your chest feel heavy, and the smile disappeared. Lucy noticed, tilting her head in thought. “The entire world was scared,” Lucy whispered, and you looked back up at her with wide eyes. “There had been a few survivors, but hundreds…” she trailed off, pushing some hair back behind her ear. “When the news caught drift that you hadn’t been accounted for, the world went crazy. A girl escaping? Or were you abducted by the terrorists?” 

“Neither,” you told her, and she bit her lip, looking lost in thought. 

“We know that now. But back then… The police searched for months, not finding a thing other than what was left at your house.”

“Justice?” you asked her, and she looked at you, taking hold of your hand. Your chest felt hot, tight and constricting around your lungs. Tears were burning your eyes as you thought of your dog, who was surely dead by now. “What happened to Justice?” Your voice was weak, breaking off at the end of your dog’s name. 

You couldn’t imagine leaving your dog behind, waiting for you to come home only to be left with an empty house. You thought of Justice sitting in front of the door, head on their paws and just sleeping, counting away time in hope that door would open and you would step inside. 

A tear drifted down your cheek, and you rubbed it away, sniffling. Of course you would cry over losing your dog, but not that you had lost everything, everyone. 

Your friends were dead, your family was dead. 

And yet here you sat; alive. 

“Justice was brought to a shelter and adopted into a loving family,” she told you and you nodded, wiping away some other tears that had escaped. With a deep breath, you calmed yourself down. 

“Can I go shower now?” you asked Lucy and she nodded, patting your knee and getting to her feet. You shoved away the blankets covering you and pressed your bare feet to the ground, standing for a few moments so you didn’t fall. 

Lucy unlocked the bathroom and let you in. As far as bathrooms in hospitals went, this one was nice. There was a large mirror with a nice porcelain sink beneath it, a small table next to the sink stacked with towels. But that wasn’t impressive. What struck you as different from 2016 was the large bath that doubled as a shower, various options for the showerhead and bath being presented. There were even jets in the sides of the tub! 

You felt a small smile grow on your face until you noticed the toilet, which was a lot larger with...buttons? You frowned, walking over to it to see the options. You felt your face grow heated at the options… You’d heard of the Japanese having impressive bathrooms, with options to  _ clean  _ yourself and so on, but America had never been up to speed with them in that area. Until now, anyways. 

Lucy giggled at your expression and you cleared your throat, turning to face her. She was holding a pile of clothing in her hands, and you had no idea where she’d gotten them from until she gestured to a laundry chute with a small tray above it exposing another change of clothes. Impressive…

“I’ll be standing outside this door if you need any help. There’s soap, hair products but no razors,” Lucy told you and you rolled your eyes inwardly. They still thought you were gonna kill yourself… You wouldn’t do that. There was still things to see, even if the new world was overwhelming. You had hope things would get easier. You just had to take it a day at a time. 

“Thank you,” you finally said and she nodded, closing the door to the point where it was only open by a few inches. You sighed at the newfound privacy, even though you weren’t actually alone. When you took off your blood stained clothes, you stood naked in the room, feeling more exposed than ever. 

Goosebumps littered your skin as you stood there, looking at the bloody clothing your hand. It felt as though what had happened was still happening, a nightmare that was infection, spreading into reality. Your friend’s dead eyes looked back at you in the mirror, and when you relieved yourself in the toilet you could only think of the pure terror and fear your friend had felt before being killed in cold blood. 

When you turned on the shower, you threw your head back, breathing through the warm water that spread down your body, turning red at your feet and staining the tub. It reeked of copper, stinging your nostrils as you inhaled and exhaled. 

You couldn’t help it; you felt your chest constrict and your breathing grow quicker, more strained with each breath you took. Your eyes closed in an attempt to shut out the pain you were feeling, grabbing your hair in an attempt to ground yourself. But then you saw it…

You saw the barrel of the gun trained on your forehead, the blood dripping down your chin and hitting your shoes. You were taking a step back, foot stepping on your friend’s limp arm. There was a crunching noise, her bones probably breaking or being hurt by your weight. The smell of blood stinking the air, the men and women with guns in their hands watching you with scornful eyes, your fate as their toy sealed in the motion of your arms being thrown up to stop the bullet. 

_ Mom- Be safe  _

You opened your eyes, blinking. Your tears were lost in the stream of the shower, your breath steam with the huffs you exhaled. The nails digging into your palm let loose, unsure if your hand was bleeding among the red water dripping off of your body. 

With a sigh, you leaned your head against the tiled wall, tempted to sink to your knees and simply cry. But there was a knock at the door, making you pull yourself together with a lurching feeling in your chest at being caught. 

“(Y/N), you doing okay?” Lucy asked you and you nodded before remembering she couldn’t see you, thankfully. 

“Yeah,” you replied and she hummed in response, clearly not believing you but deciding to not push you. You were somewhat grateful for her decision to not demand for a truthful response, and you heard the door creak closed until a crack was only left. 

With an angry huff, you took the bar of soap and began to scrub away at your skin, determined to get all traces of the previous carnage off of your body. It hurt, but you were determined to be clean, to be rid of the past despite the fact it felt as though the shooting had just happened. 

The smell of soap brought back the memory of Lush, moments before your birthday had been twisted into a nightmare. You chuckled at the thought you were 60 years older, trying to swallow away the lump in your throat.

All the problems you had been faced with before it had all ended with a bullet seemed small and insignificant. You were working 45 hours a week, getting only a few hours of sleep every night. Your favorite pair of shoes was breaking off at the sole, and your favorite shirt had gotten a toothpaste stain. Your favorite show on Netflix was getting closer and closer to the end, no more seasons being available afterwards. Justice’s food was getting low, and the closest McDonald’s was relocating. 

And then you were victim of a mass shooting.

That kinda sucked. 

After getting all traces of blood off of your body, you dropped the bar of soap, leaning down to retrieve it but instead hit your head. You swore under your breath, rubbing at your forehead. At first you thought you were imagining it, but there were loud voices outside of the bathroom, loud enough to make you look towards the door and consider getting a towel. But after a moment, you brushed it off and returned to your shower. 

It was only when Lucy rushed into the bathroom and locked the door did you finally stop and realize something was wrong based on the look on her face. She was breathing heavily, leaning against the bathroom door with wide, frightened eyes. After a few moments, her eyes finally turned towards you, and you instinctively reached to hide yourself from her gaze. 

“Uh…” you said, but she didn’t reply. Lucy instead jumped to her feet and threw you a towel. 

“Dry yourself off. The hospital’s in lockdown,” she hissed and you felt the same feeling you had at the first sound of bullets; dread. Your body knew what was happening before your mind did, turning off the shower and running the towel along your wet skin in a weak attempt to get dry. 

“What?” you squeaked, and Lucy gave you a long look before shaking her head, grabbing the spare change of clothes above the laundry chute. She tossed you a bra and you quickly clasped it on, pulling on a pair of underwear so quickly you were shocked you didn’t fall. Without a second thought, Lucy pulled a grey t shirt over your head, handing you grey sweatpants that you stepped into. 

There was the familiar sound of bullets outside the bathroom, followed by screaming that was quickly cut off by an interruption of gunfire. You and Lucy stopped to stare at the door. Her lips were a thin line, drawn tight with furrowed eyebrows. How she was better prepared for this than you were was unknown. After all, you were the one who had survived a terrorist attack. 

Hands were abruptly on your shoulder, diverting your attention towards Lucy’s expression of pure fear and determination. “Listen to me,” she told you, and you dumbly stared at her, unsure of what to do or say. “You are one of the most important people alive right now, and people will try to hurt you, and some people will hurt you. But listen to me when I say to not let them win, to keep fighting. Your death is a loss for mankind,” she whispered, and you frowned. Your death? What the hell did she mean by…

Before you could finish that thought, Lucy turned and grabbed the podium holding towels and shoved it against the wall, getting on top of it. You weren’t entirely sure of what she was doing until you saw her unlocking a vent hatch. Your eyes widened at the realization of the severity of the situation. 

“Those people out there…” you began, but you sound yourself unable to finish your sentence. The weight of what was happening finally hit you, your lungs burning with panic and your senses sharpening in an attempt to help you stay alive. 

“They want you,” Lucy told you and you took a deep breath, startled by her words. You didn’t understand your importance, your worth to these people. You could travel through time, but besides that you were a simple girl who ate too much junk food and watched too much Netflix. 

More importantly, what did these people want from you? 

“Is it the same people?” you asked her, voice barely above a whisper as you remembered the men behind the barrels of their weapons, the woman who shot your friend. Your hands tightened into fists at your side, your rage making you shake. 

Lucy stopped for a moment to turn and look at you, shaking her head. “Worse,” she replied. 

“Oh, great,” you hissed and Lucy turned to go back to the vent shaft. After a few moments of listening to the screams and bullets with your heart beating fast and palms getting sweaty, the vent shaft was finally pulled off the wall by Lucy. She turned and huffed a strand of her hair out of her face, nodding for you to come over. 

“Get in,” she told you, stepping down off of the podium. You frowned, looking at her for a moment before she hissed, “Get in.” 

Not wanting to argue, you pulled yourself into the vent shaft, hitting your head on the roof of the vent with a silent curse. You barely had any room to move at all, but you managed to turn and face the entrance only to see that Lucy was reattaching the shaft. “Wait, what?” you said and Lucy looked at you with sad eyes, a bitter smile on her face. 

“You’re more important,” she told you before finishing her task, stepping off of the podium and moving it back to its original place. 

“You’ll die!” you hissed, tears blurring your vision in anger and hopelessness. You couldn’t be responsible for more deaths, you couldn’t! It was your fault for the last terrorist attack, and now your fault for this one. Someone had to survive, anyone. 

But Lucy wasn’t one, and it was evident as she stepped back towards the door with a soft sigh. “Promise me,” Lucy whispered as loud voices drew closer to the bathroom door. 

_ Promise me you’ll live.  _

It was unspoken, but it hung in the air like the scent of copper and death. You nodded, swallowing the sobs that threatened to spill out of your throat. 

Lucy nodded, and that’s when the door was kicked down, earning a gasp from her. You clasped your hands across your mouth to stop your scream, staying still in fear of being seen. Besides the low groan of a man and the sobs from Lucy, it was quiet, which scared you more than when guns were being fired and people were being murdered. 

Yet even when confronted by a man in all black, Lucy said nothing. Tears streamed down her face as she backed up to the back wall of the bathroom, trying to find an escape only to find her fate sealed into the tiles on the wall. The man advanced on her, face hidden by a strange mask. He seemed inhuman, smoke being emitted by his body as though he were a portable carbon emission. You frowned, watching him grab Lucy’s throat with clawed hands. 

“Any last words?” the man asked, voice sounding as close to a demon as you imagined a man could. That was, anyways, if he was a man and not a demon himself. 

Lucy spit in his face, earning an angry growl before he pulled his hand back, slicing her jugular open with the clawed end of his hands. The blood splattered across the wall, Lucy’s eyes wide and mouth ajar with the soft gurgles of blood filling up her throat. You couldn’t help but whimper at the sight, a fatal mistake on your part. 

The man turned to look at you, spying your form hiding behind the vent. Lucy’s eyes followed him too, turning pleading and desperate for you to escape. “Run,” she gasped out, and you did just that. 

You turned in the vent, hitting your head yet again but ignoring the pain. With fear pumping your system with adrenaline, you began to crawl through the vents, breath hot against your face. You thought you were safe with the vent shaft buying you enough time to flee, but that was before you heard a soft whooshing noise. 

With your heart in your throat, you turned to see a wisp of black smoke drifting into the vent behind you. You frowned, nearly stopping to gawk before seeing the smoke piece together into the man from before. Up close, he was terrifying, smelling of the massacre you’d run into after fleeing Lush. 

You cursed, turning to focus on escaping until a hand wrapped around your foot, tugging you back. With a scream, you smacked your chin on the floor of the vent, making your vision flash white for a moment as blood filled your mouth. What you imagined were his claws dug into your skin, breaking it slowly enough to the point where you cried out, turning onto your back to fight the man off. 

But you played right into his hand as he pulled you towards him, scratching your leg all the way up to your thigh. You screamed as you were now face to face with the man, staring into the eyes of his mask with fear and terror. 

“Finally,” he hissed, and his hand wrapped around your throat, cutting of your air. You winced and tried to breathe, even grabbing his hand with yours to try and fend him off so you could breathe. But his grip was tight, and you felt his claws break skin and draw blood after a few moments. 

You looked up to ceiling of the vent, begging whatever God existed to grant you mercy. The world began to turn dark, fuzzy at the edges as you tried to breathe, mouth moving but nothing happening. You felt your fingers go numb, grip falling away as you closed your eyes, feeling the world hum around you. 

There was the soft sound of sirens outside, the feeling of air flowing through the vent against your skin. You could feel the man’s heart beat against your chest, becoming faster than your own as time wore on. You could feel his warmth, feel his pain as though it were your own. You were dying, but with each wound that was opened, it would heal and force you to live in the pain of being in a constant state of decay. 

Just as quickly as the world had turned grey, it had become bright and your eyes opened widely, breath flowing into your lungs. The scratches and punctures on your neck were no longer weighing you down, and you were suddenly weightless, in the air as though you  _ were  _ the air.

The world was at your fingertips, and you reached out to touch the vent, to feel its energy and power. Only, you were now in the vent, hand plastered against the metal. You could still feel the steady thrum of power underneath the layers of iron and whatnot, but it was more dim, further away than it once had been. 

You frowned, remembering that you had been dying only moments ago and then…

Then what?

There was a dark chuckle behind you, and you turned around to see the man facing you. Your eyes widened and you shrieked, turning to find an escape only to have an arm wrap around your throat, pulling you back. A scream was on the tip of your tongue before being interrupted by the lack of air. 

“Nice to finally meet you, (Y/N),” the man said, and as the world faded away, you couldn’t help but disagree. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i hope you liked this chapter!  
> the next chapter will have the reader encounter another character and so on.   
> the actual characters from Overwatch won't be coming in until later, as it ties in with the plot.   
> this won't just be fanservice, but instead a full fledged story. there will be character development and so on.  
> so if you're all about that, great!  
> if not, sorry :/  
> PLEASE LEAVE KUDOS!!  
> and PLEASE  
> leave a comment!  
> idc if its just "i like this" or whatever, any comment is nice!  
> a comment away keeps talon away :P  
> have a great day/night!


	3. Little Lamb

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where are you?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks so much for the feedback everyone! I'm so happy that you're enjoying this story so far !   
> i hope you like this chapter, as im not sure its too great aha... it was shorter as some chapters will be due to the storyline, which is almost completely finished in terms of planning!  
> I plan to try and update this once a week, and there will be at least twelve chapters. There will be probably more than that, but thats how much i have planned out right now : )   
> I also hope you like my interpretations of the characters ! now, they may not follow everyone else's interpretations, as everyone has their own individual ideas of how they are. reaper was very difficult for me to plan, as there is some romance between him and the reader. so i honestly think he'll be different than what other people think of him as... i hope you guys like him in the upcoming chapters tho !   
> ENOUGH RAMBLING !  
> lets go to the good shit ; )  
> TRIGGER WARNINGS:   
> torture   
> violence   
> talks of depression

You were cold...so cold. Shivers wracked your body as you curled into a ball, trying to find warmth in your frail bones and starved body. The blanket wrapped around your frame provided nothing other than a useless layer between you and the world you were forced into without your consent. 

In the soft world you breathed in, you couldn’t help but wish you were home, curled up in your bed with the sun’s gentle glow waking you with its heat. You would wake up to Justice licking your nose, often times curling up next to you and resting their head on your shoulder. 

Yet as you opened your eyes, there was nothing. There was no one except grey walls and an ugly yellowish curtain in the corner. It was then you realized you had no idea where you were, which was alarming enough to get your feet on the cold ground and goosebumps coating your skin, this time not from the lack of heat. 

Where were you?

Panic was hot and tight in your chest as you looked around, not recognizing your surroundings in the slightest. This was an entirely unknown area, and it was not welcoming. Your heart leapt into your throat as you took quiet steps around the barren room, breathing getting quicker and more difficult. It was easy to feel the panic attack approaching, but it was hard to stop it, especially in the given circumstances. 

Remembering your therapist’s advice from the sessions that felt as though they belonged in another life entirely, you sat down and leaned against the metal frame of the bed. With a deep breath, you laid your head down in between your knees, focusing on the pattern your lungs made. 

You’d been a fan of horror movies before...well, ya know… You often grew annoyed with the protagonists and their panic, quitting a movie more so than not because of protagonists cowardly actions or stupid decisions. 

Keeping that in mind, you realized you had to figure out what to do. You’d survived a shooting targeting you specifically, so waking up in this unknown place wasn’t anything staggeringly new. It would help to figure out how you got here…

With that thought in mind, you remembered the hospital. The memories of guns being fired and lives being ended returned quicker than you could prepare yourself for, and the haunting eyes of Lucy made you grab your head, whimpering. Tears dripped down your face as you sobbed, smelling the blood and the hearing the gurgles of an inevitable death. 

You let her die, and you let her death go to waste. She’d made you promise to live, dying to ensure you escaped. And now here you were; in an unknown yet unwelcoming place. 

Guilt flooded your system like swallowing ice; burning your senses and grounding you to the memories, not allowing your to escape. It was unforgiving, a menace you never thought you would face. 

There was a loud knock from the door, and you looked up, wiping away your tears in an effort to not look pathetic. You kept your mouth shut in fear of upsetting whoever was on the other side, especially if it was the man who could float and kill while seemingly getting off on it. 

The door open, allowing a bright light to shine directly onto you. You squinted, eyes slowly adjusting to the sight. There was a man holding a gun to his side, a sight that was too familiar after the past day or so. “Y/N, you are required for duty,” he stated, and you frowned. What duty? 

With the question on your mind, you got to your feet and slowly walked to the door. The man stepped aside to let you walk through, revealing the world to you by doing so. The walls were high, windows at the top just near the ceiling. You furrowed your eyebrows, looking left to right only to see doors stretching both ways. You wanted to ask questions, but the man shoved his gun into your back and you staggered forward, rubbing at the hurt area. “To the right,” he said and you frowned at him, walking in the direction he’d instructed.

The place reeked of sweat and human waste. Urine made your nostrils sting and your face scrunched up at the repulsive smell. Memories of Lush came rushing back at the smell, and you took a deep breath through your mouth to calm yourself down. It didn’t help when the guard shoved his gun into your back to speed you up, nearly knocking you over.

God, when did you become so weak? Or were you always this way? 

Your pace sped up, but your eyes did not stop wandering. When you passed a door, there was often a little slot you could slide so you could peer into the room. A few slots were slid open, and each sight was horrendous. 

One room held a woman singing and spinning in a circle, clawing at her wrists to the point where skin was peeled back and blood dripped down her skin. Another one held a man peering out at you, a sight that made you jump and nearly fall. The last one you could see through only showed feet...dangling in the air. 

With a silent gasp, you snapped your head back to where you were walking, heart loud in your ears and tongue sharp on your lip. You unconsciously felt yourself shaking, have it be from the panic freezing your blood or with the disgust of witnessing a victim of their own sick mind. Would you end up like them? Would you end up wearing a too common necklace of rope, life ending by the own kick of your foot pushing your support away? 

Walking through wherever you were, it felt all too likely. 

With a deep breath, you closed your eyes for a moment, remembering what Lucy said. She had called you the world’s last hope, but surely there were other people who were helping. There were good people, even if the bad were louder, more brash and ruthless. 

You thought back to 2016, back to the world’s issues. There were quarrels in your own country over leadership and the abuse of it, problems you watched from afar with sad eyes and a weight in your chest. You tried to help where you could, adopting Justice from the shelter so another pup could have a home, and another pup would be moved from the shelter. You went to the occasional protest about (What cause you are passionate for), yelling to the point where you tasted blood in your mouth and your wrists cramped. 

But who could defeat the Terrorists taking too many lives, and who could catch the bombs that would kill innocents? When you were young, you looked fondly on your country, proclaiming, “I’ll be a soldier one day!” 

Your mom and dad had hushed you, looking at with eyes that had read too many headlines. “No, sweetie, why not be a vet?” 

You’d smiled and put your hands on your hips. “Vet _ eran _ ?” you’d playfully said, not understanding their distant smiles and silent eyes. They knew far more than you did, and walking through those hallways, you were certain you had the same eyes; haunted and afraid. 

Your eyes opened to a door a few feet away from you.

“Step inside,” the soldier said, and you turned to look back at him in uncertainty. His face was covered with a helmet however, and you nodded. He stepped in front of you to unlock the door, and your gaze turned back to the hallway you’d stepped through. Thoughts of running away and escape were thundering in your head, and your feet shook with the need to be free, to be away. 

But that could get you killed. 

You swallowed hard. 

“Get inside,” the man said, and you looked at him with wide eyes before nodding, and doing just as he commanded. 

You couldn’t help but admit that you weren’t surprised it was completely dark in the room. It seemed to go in place with the whole “terrifying place where you will die or become a mindless husk” plan. But it was still jarring to find yourself blind. Your senses quickly picked up on the lack of sight, and tried to make up for it by heightening your hearing. 

There was the soft hum of electrical machinery, and you took a step forward. You didn’t bump anything, and you sighed in relief slightly, taking another step forward. Confident there was nothing in your way, you began to step around until some jabbed into your side and you grabbed it with a wince. 

There was someone else in there with you! You took a few steps backwards, confident you would hit a wall until it occurred to you that there could be a drop. All steps ceased and you held your sight, breathing heavily. The room began to heat up from your fear and breathing, but there was still just the soft buzz. You couldn’t hear anyone move, or breathe, which sounded creepy as hell in any other circumstance. 

You could either risk touching someone and getting your ass beat, or resolve your fear by approaching the unknown object. With a deep breath, you raised your hand in front of you, relying on the feeling of your muscles constricting instead of sight. You took a step forward, and another, and another and…

Your felt yourself hit something and you jumped back with a squeak, clutching your hand to your chest as though it had just been burned. But there was no angry retort, not upset reply. Instead, you continued to hear the soft whir. 

A frown found itself on your face and you slowly put out your shaking hand to feel the object, silently praying you didn’t touch someone’s boob or crotch on accident. Instead you felt something solid, and the frown deepened as you wrapped your hand around it. It was somewhat thin, and it felt like...wood?

With a soft exhale, you put out your other hand to feel the object, and found it to be a chair. You rolled your eyes with a soft huff, somewhat embarrassed you had been scared by a  _ chair _ of all things. Terrorists were targeting you, and you couldn’t even keep it together around an inanimate object. 

. Suddenly, the darkness of the room disappeared, replaced by a blinding light that made you step back with a wince, covering your face with your arm. The whir grew louder, deafeningly so for a few moments until you adjusted to the change in sound and sight. You put your arm down, and found yourself in a basic room with wooden chairs and a metal table in the middle. The entire room was a stark white other than the furniture, and you turned around in a circle to try and see if there was anything else. 

The room was empty of any other surprises, and so you turned to look at the chair with furrowed eyebrows. 

There was the soft creak of the door and you spun around with wide frightened eyes, taking an unconscious step back so the chair was pressing against your skin. You found yourself looking at a woman with...blue, purple skin? Despite her skin color, she looked human, but the eyes she peered at you with lacked any emotion other than sadistic amusement. 

For a few moments, the two of you merely stared at each other, listening to the whir of electricity and the soft huffs of your breath. There were no words to be exchanged, for opening your mouth could result in the end of the quiet beat of your heart, the loud rush of your thoughts. It felt as though the air were waiting for either of you initiate, and it was obvious this woman was waiting. 

Finally, she laughed and you flinched, hands disappearing behind your back to grasp the chair. Her eyes crinkled without mirth, and the noise was so offensive and fear inducing that your blood rushed to your head, no doubt trying to protect vital organs in fear of a threat to your survival. 

“You look like a lost lamb,” she hummed as she took a step, following the walls. Her voice held the tint of a French accent, and it would be beautiful under any other circumstance. But with where you were standing at that moment, it was a threat that hung in the air with the scent of your sweat and fear. 

You had faced a Nazi-Terrorist organization, and a man who could consume...whatever it was he did. But you had powers too. You tried to reassure yourself with that statement, but the fact you didn’t know how to use your powers with absolute certainty was louder, making you take another step back as her gaze turned from the wall to you. The corner of the chair dug into your skin and you winced, a sound that made her stop, hands laced behind her back. 

“Oh, are you scared?” she asked you, turning to face you. The corners of her lips held the ghost of a smile, and she would be gorgeous if not for the inhumanity she possessed. 

“No,” you bit out, cursing yourself for the way your words stuttered and shook. Your body grew even more tense at the glint in her eye. 

The woman nodded before gesturing to the chair you held. “Please, take a seat,” she told you, and you knew you couldn’t refuse. You were not in control here. 

With a quick, jerky nod, you followed her order. The chair felt reassuring to your back for a few moments until you could hear her steps behind you. Her presence felt like frost on your back, reminding you of when you forgot gloves on your way home and you still had miles to go. You stiffened, and based on her quiet laugh, she noticed. 

“Your results are fascinating,” she hummed, and you frowned, tempted to look back at her in confusion, but your movements were interrupted by the feeling of her fingers in your hair. Your eyes widened, breath catching in your throat. If it were a friend, it would be funny and calming as they combed their fingers through your hair. But as she twirled a lock around her finger, it was taunting, mocking. 

You were a lamb. 

And she was the shepherd. 

“You could have easily tapped into the energy, turning on the lights. Or you could have felt the energy that chair has in this world, feeling its shape. But you...you didn’t,” she whispered, and you didn’t understand what she was talking about. Was she referring to the feeling you’d had when the man with the mask had been...feeding on you? You had felt everything in those few moments where you ceased to be yourself, without body, without form. You simply  _ were _ . 

You looked at her in confusion, a mistake on your part. The hands that had been gentle moments before turning violent, yanking your hair back with a harsh tug. You yelped and found yourself staring into bright golden eyes, a mocking smile on an alien face. Her free hands traced your cheek, and you looked at her movements with fresh fear. 

“Did I say you could move, little lamb?” she hissed, spit coating your face. You shook in your chair, swallowing roughly while shaking your head. Your fingers wrapped around the seat of your chair, trying to gain some sense of control of the situation. “Huh?!” she yelled, pulling your hair back so hard you found your back hitting the floor. The harsh wood dug into your skin as you smacked your head on the floor. Bright spots flickered in your vision as you curled up, certain you had brain damage of some sort. 

Hands wrapped around the collar of your shirt, lifting you off the ground in one swift motion. The woman’s face returned to your view, and Jesus, she was mad. You couldn’t help it… Tears welled up in your eyes as you stared at her. You were hungry, you were scared and you were in pain. “N-no,” you whispered, and that bitter smile came back on her face as she rubbed your chin, dropping you. You huffed and rubbed at your eyes as she turned her back to you, subconsciously sniffling. 

The soft click of her heels echoed in the room, too loud for comfort as you sat there, holding your breath. Would she hurt you again, or would she continue to taunt you? If this was an interrogation, which you assumed it was, she was damn good at interrogating. Or maybe you were weak, after all she was the one who called you “little lamb”. 

“(Y/N), age (Age)...correct?” she asked, seemingly bored with the conversation. You nodded, but she didn’t continue. It was tempting to turn and look at her, but the ache in your scalp said otherwise. “Correct?” she hissed, prompting you to speak. 

“Y-yes,” you stuttered, and she hummed, pleased with the answer. 

“You grew up in (Hometown, Home State) before moving to Chicago, where you went to college for (Your major). You struggled with money, so you took up a job at a local frozen yogurt shop. But that wasn’t the only thing you struggled with, hmm?” she asked the air, and you felt a familiar sense of dread in your chest. 

How did they know? After your disappearance, did they pull all your records, making them public? You internally groaned, cursing media. Of course they would want all the gritty details about your life, about who you were besides the “Girl Who Disappeared”. No, they wanted a girl who had a dirty side, or a girl with bright, big eyes and a soft smile. You weren’t that… You had messed up along the way, not doing enough extracurriculars, not fitting in anywhere. You were troubled, but not enough where you got suspended or expelled. 

You were troubled enough to develop a depression that sank its teeth into your skin like a leech, suckling your happiness until it grew fat with your seratonin. But it never died like a leach. Instead, it stuck out of your side with your anxiety, with your demons. 

With a huff, you imagined the headlines. “Troubled  Girl Disappears From Terrorist Attack; Possible Involvement With ISIS?” Surely they would get the terrorist organization wrong, get you wrong in a whole. They liked the darkness, but not the light. They liked the one time you made a dumb social media post of you and your friends partying, ignoring the pictures of you volunteering, graduating. 

They liked your wide eyes, but not your chipped teeth. 

“Right?” the woman hissed, and you snapped out of your thoughts. 

“Yes,” you muttered. 

“Tell me, (Y/N), what did you struggle with?” she wondered aloud, and you swallowed roughly. 

“U-uh...my d...d-”

“Spit out!” the woman yelled, smacking her hand down next to your arm. You squeaked, chair sliding back as you jumped. 

“Depression!” you cried out, and the woman’s lips twisted up in the corners, looking at you fondly with her gold eyes. You stared at her, breathing heavily as she reached forward, rubbing at your chin. 

“Don’t worry, little lamb, we’ll fix you,” she told you, and you nodded. The woman patted your cheek before disappearing behind you again. You exhaled, subconsciously biting your nails in an attempt to calm yourself. “You know,” that god damned sing song voice cooed, and you stopped. “Chewing your nails isn’t very healthy. It’s often considered a bad habit, associated with anxiety,” she said, and the weight in your chest grew heavier, sinking you in the fear that cooled your veins, that soaked your shirt. You would be embarrassed at the sweat stains, but as you felt the soft movement in the air behind you, it was hard to be such a thing other than afraid. 

“Tell me, little lamb, why are you anxious?” she asked you, pulled the chair from the other side of the table so it was next to you. You watched her from the corner of your eyes, slowly dropping your hands into your lap. “Is it because you’re not telling me something?” she wondered, gauging your reaction as she held her on the table, eyes bright and sadistic. 

“N-no, miss,” you answered, and she shook her head, taking her arm and head off of the table. You could feel the tension in the room change as she disappeared from the field of your vision, counting the seconds that passed in your head. 

Suddenly, she was straddling you, a move that made you yelp. The first thing you noticed was that she was cold, colder than you had been that morning. It made goosebumps crawl up your skin as you looked up at her in confusion, noticing how she looked down at you as though you were a toy to be broken. 

The second thing you noticed was that she grabbed your right hand, yanking it up to inspect it. Those golden irises traveled to the your fingers, judging them silently. “Tell me, little lamb, where were you?” she murmured, and you furrowed your eyebrows. Where were you? 

You were at the mall one moment, and then at the memorial for it another. There was no time in between, not for you anyways. Surely she knew that…

“I…”

Before you could explain yourself, she smacked your hand down on the table with a loud slap of skin on metal. You yelled out, turning your head to the side with a scrunched up face. The air suddenly felt cool against your skin as you tried to ignore the sharp pricks in your skin, but the woman didn’t give you a chance. Something sharp was pressing against your nail, and you looked back with wide eyes. 

The woman watched you with curious eyes, but you looked towards what she was doing. The realization hit you as you saw her plan, and you felt your heart stutter, breath being lost to the air. She was shoving toothpicks under your fingernails. 

Back when your friends had still been...alive, you would often tell each other to kick a wall with a toothpick under your nail just to make the other blanch. It seemed cruel, and you would laugh at the thought of such pain. But now...now you weren’t laughing.

Tears welled up in your eyes, and you looked to her. “Please...please don’t,” you plead, and she used her free hand to wipe away the tears at the corner of your eye. 

“Where were you?” she whispered, and you shook your head, opening your mouth to explain until she twisted your hand into a fist, and made you punch the table. 

The pain was indescribable, incomprehensible. It felt like a splinter, but a large one ripping apart the sensitive skin of your nails. A scream ripped out of your throat as you threw you head back, trying to yank your hand back to hold it to your chest. But the woman still held the offended article of your body, eyes amused. Tears dripped down your face as you sobbed, shaking. The sharp pain had dulled into an ache, but you could feel the toothpick in your skin, lodged underneath. 

“Please, stop, no more,” you begged, and she pursed her lips, looking to the ceiling in thought before shaking her head. 

“Where were you?” she asked again, voice breathless but seductive with glee in your pain. 

“I-I was just here, and-” 

Another toothpick under your middle finger’s nail, another clench and another punch. The world flashed white as you threw your head back with another ear piercing scream, the hum of electricity pulsing in your head. You tasted blood, a new pang in your tongue as it grew numb. 

The fingers on your throat, resting on your pulse were cold, coated with your sweat within moments. You looked up at the woman with wide eyes, whimpers in your throat. “I swea-”

You could feel the toothpick under ring finger, now, and you could feel her fingers prepare to punish you yet again. But the humming in the ceiling grew louder, deafeningly so as you yelled out, smacking her hand away. 

One moment, you were sitting and praying to whatever God would listen. You could only feel the pain, feel the blood drip down your hand and coat your teeth. 

Then, you felt a shock ignite your body, setting you aflame from the inside out. The pain was replaced by a soft thrum of adrenaline coating your veins with its thick coat. You could taste your sweat, taste the blood of the man hanging from the ceiling, taste the alcohol on the guard’s lips, taste the woman’s pleasure. 

You could hear a woman praying, hear a man rape an inmate two blocks over, dogs whimpering for food and- 

Laughter?

Just as quick as the feeling had started, it ended. The lights were flickering, but gold eyes stared at you, crinkling in the corners from the presence of a smile. You were standing… When did that happen? And your first weren’t on the table...no, they were wrapped around cold skin, aching and bloody but the toothpicks were gone. 

With a gasp, you stepped back, looking down at your hands, looking for the woman’s torture device. Instead, you saw white streaks of light drifting across the surface of your skin, swimming through your veins. The humming of electricity was gone, replaced by raw silence. 

“What just…”

The laughter grew loud, and you looked up to see the woman with… Your stomach churned as you saw the toothpicks sticking out of the woman’s throat. But she didn’t look angry… No, she looked pleased as she plucked them out with soft giggles. 

“My, my little lamb,” she sighed, dropping the toothpicks onto the ground. Her eyes looked up at you from under her brow, a devious smirk replacing the twist in her lips. “You sure are powerful.” 

There was the soft click of her heels as she walked towards you, and you were tempted to back up until the wall hit your back. But the table ended your temptations, and you found yourself pressed against the wood as she grew closer…closer...closer…

She stopped next to you, fingers ghosting over your bare arm before resting at your shoulder. “Call me Widowmaker,” she hummed, breath tickling your neck and playing with your hair. You tensed up, ready for whatever punishment she could deliver. The woman noticed, leaning in closer. 

“We start tomorrow...little lamb.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if you liked this chapter,  
> PLEASE LEAVE KUDOS!   
> kudos are what get this story noticed! if this story gets more and more kudos, itll make me v happy, and others can enjoy it !  
> PLEASE LEAVE A COMMENT!  
> let me know your thoughts! seeing comments always makes my day, and i keep them in mind when reading ... and share them with my friends hehe <3  
> THANK YOU FOR READING !   
> have a great day/night~~~!  
> <3 <3 <3


	4. Dose

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reader meet Reaper...Reaper meet Reader

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> woW! okay the feedback for the last chapter was absolutely amazing! thank you all for your kind and wonderful comments! getting the notification that you guys chimed in always makes me v happy!!!  
> now, this chapter isn't as long because it was somewhat a filler, but a very, very necessary one. it establishes a very important factor in the readers health and descent into becoming Talon's experiment, and it's also preparing us for more backstory to...BUM BUM BUUUMMMM..... Reaper!!!  
> reaper's character is very hard to right because obviously he's an asshole who's been thru a lot and is a classic evil bad guy. but i hope you guys like my interpretation of him...and if you don't like it rn, give it a shot! we get to see his motives and why he is the way he is in further chapters.   
> laying everything out rn would be boring!!  
> so ENJOY~~~!!!  
> WARNINGS:   
> suicidal thoughts  
> drugs

The smell of blood filled your senses as you felt your back pressed up against the wall, the cold metal being the only sensation grounding you to reality. There were bodies littered across the floor, the only corpse not being yours. Breathing was hard, and you resorted to sharp little inhales and shaky exhales as you stared at the carnage. 

Dead eyes peered back at you with unanswered questions, ranging from “What will I eat for dinner?” to “I wonder what my little girl is learning at school today?”. But you...you had more questions than these people ever would have. You were chosen to live, while these people were not, instead eating bullets and not the food you would be blessed to have in a future stolen from these people. 

Smoke abruptly began to fill the room, and you watched it materialize into a man...the man from the hospital. He watched you in silence for a few moments, and you did the same, not bothering to hide your fear and tears. There was a soft sigh from behind the mask as he raised his gun towards you, taking a few steps into the puddles of blood to approach you. 

The cold barrel of his gun pressed against your forehead, and you looked up at him, begging for the trigger to be pulled. Anything to save you from this grief, from this hell…

“Do it,” you begged, and there was only the sound of your heavy breathing. “Do it,” you said, and the gun dropped, your heart closely following. 

“No.”

With an angry yell, you kicked the man in the kneecaps, causing him to grunt and collapse to the ground. You weren’t trained to fight, but the moves came easily to you as you wrenched the weapon from his hands. The breaths in your throat were mingling with sobs as you turned the gun on yourself, closing your eyes in preparation for the final release from this world. 

No more pain, no more sadness…

Just one, final death.

The trigger felt loose to your finger as you squeezed, and you gasped, opening your eyes to the grey walls. Heavy gasps wracked your frame as you sat in your bed, fingers tight around the sweaty sheets that stuck to your skin. The feeling of the weapon against your head remained, its soft weight taunting you with what you couldn’t have. 

With a groan, you dropped your head into your hands, knuckles weight from your previous grip. You were surprised by the amount of sweat on your face, but upon getting to your feet and stepping into the lame excuse of a bathroom you’d been provided, you saw red eyes in the mirror. You stopped, watching yourself with confused eyes as you realized you’d been crying your sleep. 

A soft huff of frustration came from your chest as you shook your head, turning on the sink to splash your face with cold water. Looking at yourself in the mirror was strange; you saw the same woman you were just days before, but there were bags under your eyes, a certain mark left on you that was not physical, but spiritual. You could feel the weight of the last few days following you as though you were a magnet, attracting it no matter how far apart you were. 

You shook your head with another loud sigh, trying to get those dwelling thoughts off of your mind as you pulled off your grey tank top and sweatpants. It was difficult to ignore how disgusting the clothes were, especially as you stepped into the cold water of the shower. Blood stuck to your skin in certain crevices, left there after your quick attempt of a shower in the hospital. New blood caked your fingers, and despite your efforts to treat the wounds, there was no option for antiseptic other than the water; no soap, nothing. 

What else were you supposed to expect for Hell. 

There was the loud creak of your room’s door, and your eyes widened, clutching the shower curtain to your naked body. “Um, I’m showering,” you squeaked, peaking out to see a soldier looking at you with unimpressed eyes. 

“You got one minute,” and your eyes widened, turning off the shower and frantically looking for a towel only to find that there was none. Blood rushed to your cheeks as you realized you’d have to ask the guard, a request that could surely get your ass kicked. With a soft curse, you peaked out back at him with pleading eyes. 

“Um...are there any towels I can have?” you asked the man, and you tried to ignore the smug grin that twisted his face. Your eyes followed his movements as he pulled a towel out from behind his back, and a small smile came back to your face, putting your arm forward to gesture you needed it. However, the smile on your face disappeared as the man shook his hand. 

“What are ya gonna do for it, hmm?” he asked, and your arm slowly returned to your side, the grip on the shower curtain faltering slightly. 

Of course...of course the guards had to harass the inmates. The prison wouldn’t fit the standard of being Hell if it didn’t have guards who were the pawns of Satan. You clenched your jaw while staring at the man, your skin turning cool as the air brushed against the wet droplets that clung to you. 

You narrowed your eyes, turning to pull on your clothes. The sweatpants stuck to you, it's dirty material making you feel gross and disgusting. But as you turned to look at the guard, you felt your dignity intact, even as you felt his glare on your back when you stepped out into the hallway. 

You went to turn to the right, expecting another meeting in the torture room from before, but the butt of a gun pushed you to the left, making you wince and rub at the spot. The guard won’t be a pawn of the Devil if he didn’t get pissed at you for not letting him treat you like a piece of meat, of course. No surprise there. 

“Where are we going?” you asked him, not daring to spare a glance. The air was tense enough, tingling with a new electricity that made your fingers itch. It made you jittery, knees unstable as you bounced with each step. 

“Cafeteria. Breakfast,” the guard told you, and you nodded, turning your gaze from where you were walking to the cells on your left. You saw a girl curled up on her bed, spine sticking out of her body just as her nose did. The sight made your eyebrows furrow, remembering photos from your psychology classes when you covered eating disorders, the ones that made students gasp and feel nauseous. But now, you felt scared, fearing for your own health while also afraid for hers. 

The next cell was a rotten smell, reeking of human excrement and urine while also smelling of day old meat left to sit in the sticky heat of July. Your eyes narrowed, a soft cough into your fist as you shook your head, swallowing the vomit that arose in your throat. 

The fear that was tangled in your chest only grew longer and complex at the smell that followed you down the grey hallway, thoughts asking you if your destiny was the same as the person’s in their final resting place, days left breaking away. 

Your thoughts were interrupted at a metal door, only unlocked once the guard approached and flashed a keycard, raising his arm under the keycard scanner. At first you were confused until you saw the barcode tattooed on his skin, and a soft light hummed over his arm before announcing, “Jackson, Mark; level 2. Welcome.”

You were impressed, and you would stop to ask questions if you weren’t in a supermax prison determined to both kill and break people in countless ways. Would you get a barcode on your skin too, or were you just a nameless nobody that would be another body burned, another body buried?

The door slid open, interrupting your thoughts. It revealed a large room, windows high up on the ceiling only to be covered by bars. Light shined down on the long, metal tables that various soldiers sat at, laughing and eating food with one another. The back wall was only split by a black room that people exited from on both sides, a long line of people entering the front door into the room. You frowned, confused by what you were seeing. Was there where you received food? There were no cafeteria ladies, so you assumed so. 

There was a sharp push on your back, forcing you into the room. You hissed, looking back at Mark with a dirty look on your face until the cafeteria went silent. An all too familiar sensation of eyes following your every movement made you look up with wide eyes, body language tight and tense. 

All soldiers were staring at you, even the ones in line. You could feel the eyes trace your curves, settling on the sexual parts of your body and ignoring the damaged parts. Heat rushed to your face as you stood there, on display for horny and judgmentally impaired men planned their pillages of the town known as your body. 

You swallowed roughly, being pushed forward again. The movement jerked the world back into motion, soldiers continuing to eat and laugh together. “Get in line,” Mark hissed and you nodded, getting behind a man. There were still eyes after you, but the burns were less and few, especially once you felt someone get in line behind you. 

You peeked behind you, prepared to see Mark only to find him gone. A frown found its way on your face, especially once you saw the familiar black leather from a man that had followed you into a vent, and into your dream. The smell of copper stung your nose as you looked up to see the damn owl mask, anger and fear causing your hairs to stand up, your fists to shake. 

The man noticed your gaze, looking down at you with what you assumed was amusement. “It’s you,” you whispered, and the air drastically changed, turning cold and menacing. You could feel his eyes just as you felt anyone else’s, but this time, it was threatening, not wanting to plant a seed and let it grow in the pits of your stomach, but instead take you apart, leaf by leaf. 

“Do you know who you’re talking to?” the man growled, taking a step towards you. The toe of his boot touched your bare feet, and you resisted the temptation to flee, to run away. There was nowhere to go, no escape and no one to help you. But now, with no alternative to your inevitable fate, you found yourself trembling with rage, the soft crackling of electricity humming through your body. 

But looking at him, you found no response in your throat, no words behind your teeth. You only felt silence, a void filled with the cracks and pops of a loose wire among puddles of water. There was a tremor in your chest, violent and threatening to tear you apart atom by atom. 

“Cat got your tongue?” the man hissed, crossing his arms and leaning down to look you in the eye. You returned his gaze, expecting to see a dead man behind the mask, but only seeing brown eyes glaring back at you, a certain hurt swirling in dark hue of his iris. The fact that he was a man behind all that leather broke the wire, sending sparks flying into the water. 

Your nails dug into your palm, and there was a loud snap from above you, the light flickering. The soldiers yelled out, expecting an assassination attempt or a rebellion only to see a broken lightbulb. The man and your eyes traveled to the ceiling, and the soft hum of electricity dulled in your head, fists unclenching. 

You took a step away from the man, eyes wide with the realization you’d accidentally used your powers without any mean to. The man’s eyes turned back to you, inspecting you with some newfound emotion that it made your fingers twitch, prepared to find that hum and use it again. But no words of malice came out, instead a dark chuckle with the shake of his head were his reaction, making you frown yet again. 

“Nice one kid... They’re going to love picking you apart…” His hand clasped your shoulder as he stepped past you, and you turned to watch him disappear into the black room with confusion. “Lamb.” 

You watched the darkness of his body disappear into the building, and with an angry huff, you followed him. It was difficult to ignore the churning of your stomach as the light from the ceiling disappeared into the ceiling of the room, the only lights coming from soft light bulbs. That was, until, you stepped onto a white circle, causing the a light from above to become blindingly bright, earning a soft wince from you. 

“(Y/N), age (Age), Priority 4,” an automated voice said and you frowned, curious as to how important a number 4 was. But before you could come to a conclusion, a door to your right slid open, and you saw the man from before getting up from a chair with a loud groan, rolling down his sleeve. You frowned, catching sight of his skin which looked as though it were peeling, decaying. 

The man looked back at you with a quick chuckle, shaking his head as another door slid open to reveal the side of the cafeteria. He disappeared and you frowned, unsure of what to do. 

“Please step in,” the voice from above said again, and you swallowed roughly, doing as asked. Almost immediately, the door whizzed shut behind you, causing you to spin around with a yelp.

It was silent, no hint of noise from the cafeteria. The air was cold against your still damp skin as you spun around in the room, taking in every sight and smell you could. There was still the soft hum of electricity, a comforting noise that had you pressing your hands against the cold, metal of the walls. The warm tingle of power tickled your fingers, reassuring you that it would follow you to wherever you required it to be. 

“Please take a seat so we can begin,” the voice said, reminding you that there was a reason for you to be in this room. With the removal of your hand, you felt confusion and worry. You thought that you came in here for food, so why did you need to sit?

Swallowing, you looked at the chair that reminded you uneasily of the times you had taken a seat in the dentist’s office. It was just as uncomfortable, you noticed as you did as commanded, unprepared for cuffs to wrap around your ankles and restrain your wrists. You cried out at the sudden invasion, fear hot in your veins as though it were a drug. 

“Please do not resist. Lie back for less pain,” the voice informed you and you scoffed, continuing to fight against the metal locked into your skin. But even with the fight you put up, the needle that appeared from above made you stop, realizing your attempts were futile. Yet you didn’t stop, crying out until more locks were wrapping around your chest, your shoulders, and finally, your neck. 

Tears streamed down your face, the drops of water even surprising you considering how much you’d cried in the past few days. You’d assumed crying would be impossible by now, but once again, this damn place had proven you wrong. 

“Please do not resist. Injection will begin in 5…”

Your eyes widened as you watched the needle grow closer, twisting your body in every possible direction to try and avoid the inevitable. There had to be a way out…

“4.”

You closed your eyes, biting down on your lip as you pressed your hands against the metal of the chair, There was the soft hum of energy far away, and as you reached for it, it withdrew, fleeing. But you wouldn’t give up...no… 

You wouldn’t become one of theirs, wouldn’t play into their torture techniques. You wouldn’t let them put their darkness and cruelty into your body, into your veins. 

You couldn’t. 

“3.”

There was a soft whir and you opened your eyes to see the needle moving to the side, hovering above your arm. You couldn’t help yourself as you screamed in terror, the haunting noise echoing off of the walls and playing into your ears. Fear was threatening to spill in the dam of your chest, the taste of copper staining your tongue as you fought. 

“2.”

A soft prick on your arm, invasively spreading into the depths of your skin as it went deeper, and deeper… You screamed again, but this time, it felt more feral, as though it were your last breath of filtered, safe air. The world was dying around you as it dug into your arm, painful enough to for you to bite through your lip without you noticing immediately. 

“1.”

You could  _ feel  _ it rushing into your veins, cold and biting against the walls of your arteries and mingling itself with your blood. A cry came from your throat at the strange feeling, weakly fighting against the needle in your arm. The needle dug into your skin, and a soft, displeased whir sounded from above at your actions. 

You had the world on the tip of your tongue, ready to destroy this damned place you had been thrust into without second thought. But a wave of calm washed over you, and you shaking and wiggling slowly eased into merely lying in the chair, staring at the ceiling in confusion.

The world was spinning as you sat there, breathing getting calmer and calmer until the anxiety you’d had ever since the seventh grade was taken and hidden in a tight box located in the pit of your stomach, locked away. It felt heavenly as you sat there, the hum of electricity coursing through your body with not a sexual but intimate drive. 

You felt as though the walls you had built were being brought down by this wave, this rush of...whatever it was. A drug? Surely a few moments before then you would have paled and fought ever harder at the thought of being drugged, but all thoughts of rebellion had disappeared, grasped by taking hands and placed in another body, another vessel for mental illness and weakness. 

The restraints around your body clicked, not longer pitching your skin. You looked at the room in confusion as you sat up, holding onto the chair with white knuckles and shaky feet. “Please approach the wall to receive food, and exit through the door on your right,” the voice told you and you groaned, placing your feet on the cold metal. Standing should have been easy, but as you stood, the world spun, hazy and bright with colors you had never seen. 

Swallowing, you slowly wobbled over to the wall, which opened up to reveal a food tray with...whatever the hell that was. It didn’t look like food, but instead looked like a soup full of whatever they felt like. But the rumble in your stomach didn’t seem to care, and you found yourself turning to see the side door of the room slide open, revealing bright light and overwhelming you with the noise of a cafeteria.

You winced as you stepped out into the cafeteria, gripping your tray as tight as you could while your senses adjusted. The colors warped around you as you turned to look at the soldiers, trying to focus on one thing at a time. Voices were ricocheting off into your ear, the world spinning as you took step by step towards an open seat. You took a deep breath, counting your each step as though you were learning how to move once again. 

The cold seat of the cafeteria table sent jolts through your body, and you jerked at the coldness, a light bulb flickering above your head with your movement. The voices dulled next to you for a moment, but resumed to talking about how much pussy they’ve been getting, how one patient shit themselves and so on. Looking over, they looked like demons, all angry colors and loud sounds. It hurt your head, and so you scooted down the table as much as you could before your stomach began to churn. 

Your fingers were tingling, and as you tried to get the soup to your mouth, your tremors kept shaking the liquid, causing it to spill onto your already dirty clothes. Anger began to build up in your chest with each failed attempt to eat, or drink, and the lights began to flicker, electricity humming louder. 

“If you keep breaking our lights, you’ll miss a dose,” a familiar voice said, a voice that made the colors spin faster around your body. The hum of electricity dulled, instead replaced by a soft coo of something more sinister. You tried to focus on the soft noises that sounded like an animal begging for attention, but you instead found your energy being pulled into a tide, unable to escape. 

Your fingers began to shake, the soup in your spoon splashing wildly all over your body. The world began to spin, your body becoming so cold your teeth began to chatter. Everyone was screaming, the world was ending as the sun disappeared behind the clouds, birds hitting the window so hard glass flew and cut your skin. 

“Little lamb.”

Deers screeching as hunters put a bullet in their bodies, a woman digging ceramic from the toilet into her skin, a boy sitting beside his dying mother’s bedside, dogs barking and fighting for scraps of food…

An explosion...one you caused, dammit. You did this. Blue eyes now dull, yellow hair now gray. Old friends become new enemies, bullet casings on the ground but never a body. A dance, a waltz following the soft tune of mistakes and constant decay…

“(Y/N)!”

The world stopped spinning, the tide retreating into whatever ocean they came from. You gasped, breathing in air as though you were choking. There was a cold hand on your shoulder, the soft coo bouncing off the walls in your chest. 

Your eyes were turned towards your side, seeing the man in the owl mask. There was something spinning around him...a whirl of smoke that traced his skin before ghosting over yours. You followed its movements, listening to its soft coo. 

The grip on your shoulder disappeared, and the song fell into silence with the electricity in the ceiling. You frowned, raising a hand to get it back before there was a soft sigh, a clatter to your right. The man was sitting next to you, but why? 

“First dose?” he grumbled, and you merely stared at him, not understanding why he chose a barn owl as his mask. There were plenty of scary options, like a clown or a skull. But an owl? 

Shaking your head, you took a shaky breath, looking back down at your food with unfocused eyes. “That obvious?” you croaked out, and he huffed. You frowned, dipping your spoon into your soup with unstable hands for what felt as though it were the millionth time. Your muscles protested, cramping to the point where the soup spilled on your leg again, burning you. 

A sigh, and you glared at the killer. “You’re a fucking baby, for Gods sake,” he grumbled before ripping the spoon out of your grasp. “You need to eat,” he said, and you crossed your arms across your chest, a pout on your face. 

“I’m not a fucking baby… Some of us don’t do drugs like you bad guys,” you spat, and the man didn’t seem phased at all, simply sighing as he scooped up some of the soup. You couldn’t believe this man... or whatever he was. This owl, if that’s what he identified as with his dumb mask.

First he went on a murdering spree in a hospital, damn near consuming your soul, whatever that mean. And then he insulted you, but now he’s offering to help you eat? No damn way you would let him get any closer to you. 

The man offered you the spoon, and you smacked his hand away, effectively splashing the soup all over him. He yelled out and you couldn’t help the smirk on your face, satisfied with the small rebellion you had just committed. 

But the smirk disappeared as he grabbed your color, pulling you close. You peered into the mask’s eyes, watching the anger swirl and kiss his skin. His eyes were fierce, alive, but the forces around him were not, treating him as though he were a decomposing animal. 

“I’m trying to help you,” he hissed, and you snorted, rolling your eyes. Whatever they pumped into you made you reckless, fearless. It was dangerous, an experience that damn nearly already got you hooked to its addictive rub, its powerful song. 

“Really?” you whispered, breathless in face of death. “You’re the reason why I’m here,” you murmured, and the grip on your shirt weakened, almost surprised by your reminder. You didn’t understand why; it was rather obvious this man, this thing was why you’d been brought her, tortured and now drugged for whatever reason. 

The man dropped you, and you snickered as he got to his feet in anger. Smoke was billowing off of him now, swirling around his frame in what you assumed would be menacing if you weren’t high off of the feeling of power, of being Godly. It felt like the mornings where the sun softly touched your skin, warmth found in the pile of blankets and pillows your body rested on. It felt like when you finally found shade on a hot summer day, sweat drying and body resting. 

It felt like you were okay. 

But you knew you were far from it. 

“You’re why I’m going to die,” you told the man in bitter amusement, and he turned, damn near ghosting across the ground in a cloud of smoke. But he stopped, rematerializing to turn and look back at you. 

“You’re not going to die,” he said, and you furrowed your eyebrows, not understanding. “You’re going to become me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well i hope you guys enjoyed this!!!  
> COMMENT PLS!!  
> comments are amazing! seeing your guys' thoughts is very important and getting your feel what's happening and happened shapes what happens in the future. im a democracy guys, lmao  
> LEAVE KUDOS!!  
> kudos helps get this story popular and seen by more people!!! more kudos=more chapters!!! :)  
> and last of all,  
> HAVE A GREAT DAY/NIGHT!!!  
> thank you for reading <3


	5. Water

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You can't breathe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well, this chapter was a lot of fun to write. i wont give anything away, but it was definitely interesting to develop the reader's powers and to describe it. have any of your ever played dishonored? if not, that's fine but this might not make sense if you haven't... the powers of the reader are like trying to describe "the void" from the games; you can't. you can't understand it completely and you can't control it completely. it simply is. i hope that makes sense :)  
> with that said, i had fun trying to describe them in a way we can understand. it really brought out a more poetic side in me rather than a storytelling side of me, so i hope you guys like that!  
> and we get more action with reaper! this chapter is very big in the reader's development, and also in how i interpret reaper in this story. we'll probably get into more detail with more interpretation for him next chapter as it'll be more relevant then than now.  
> also i hope you guys like my interpretation so far! comment what you think on the reader's development, and my interpretation of reaper! any thoughts are appreciated :)  
> SO WITH THAT SAID,  
> enjoy this chapter!!!  
> TRIGGER WARNINGS:  
> depressed/suicidal thoughts  
> mentions to rape and sexual assault  
> torture  
> drowning  
> drug abuse

You didn’t know how long you sat at the cafeteria table, time seemingly circling around you with the words from soldiers. The spoon you’d attempted to use for the difficult task of eating remained in your grasp, resting on the table as you thought.

What did owl man want? He was the reason why you were in the prison in the first place, killing Lucy and hell, even trying to kill you. You were only able to survive by tapping into your powers, an action you still had very little idea on how to use and control. But according to the blue psycho bitch, they would fix you, whatever that meant.

But considering owl man’s words in which he claimed they were making you into him, it made your stomach churn not from hunger but from fear and uneasiness. You really didn’t want to be able to eat people’s souls, or have to wear black leather and have a weird animal mask.

But it was obvious that you didn’t have a say in your fate, not anymore. You were theirs, their experiment, their body. And maybe, you would be their soldier, a startling revelation that made you drop your spoon with a sharp inhale.

What would they make you into? And would you let them?

You could always escape, but owl man mentioned missing a dose, which made you think that they would try and condition you. Do something good, more drugs. Did that suggest daily injections, if not more? The numbing of the anxiety in your chest was nice, but the spark of energy that tickled your fingertips and itched at your spine was not. It made you shaky, lightbulb flickering with each tremor.

Time only returned to you when a hand came to your shoulder, jolting you from your thoughts. You looked to your side, seeing your best friend Mark from before. Your eyes narrowed at the sight, and he didn’t appear thrilled at the thought of whatever he was about to do. You weren’t either, but who were you to say no? He could kill you within seconds.

But the sparks making your hair stand up reassured you that you could do the same. Your fingers unclenched from the fist you didn’t even know you were making, searching for that hum.

It was evil, this hum. It was built around pens and knives, a tangle in the girl’s hair as you held her head. Tears were hot on your thighs, the only light from the window that illuminated her soft features like the moon on a quiet city. Razors in her wrist, red on the tile of her bathroom as she breathed shallowly.

One last fuck from her dead body, tears dried on her pale cheeks.

Evil.

You could feel the hum course through your body, so fragile but so powerful. You could stop it, clench your fist and kill this vile man. Your gaze moved to his eyes, his skin paling as his breath turned heavy. He was shaking, wobbling where he stood but no one seemed to notice.

You smiled, and let the energy go.

The world resumed, loud voices echoing in your ears as you got to your feet. Mark looked at you with confusion, face regaining some pallor with the clearing of his throat. If he knew you had something to do with his condition, he didn’t show it, instead turning and walking.You followed him, thoughts loud and fast in the confines of your mind.

Were you really considering killing a man? Sure, he was an awful human being who clearly enjoyed the pain of others and took advantage of prisoners, but he was still a human, alive. The energy that was making your fingers shake at your side, singing an addictive song into your ears was so powerful it made you hungry for more, something that terrified you to no end.

Not only were you a prisoner here, but you were an experiment. And if you really could kill people in the way that you almost just did, maybe owl man’s words were true. Maybe they were making you into him, whatever he was.

The thought disturbed you, but the anxiety you knew you should be feeling didn’t get caught in your throat. Instead, it twisted in your stomach for a moment before being dulled by the drugs burning your veins, making your eyesight hazy and steps all over the place.

What was the purpose of this drug? To render you unable to fight? To control you, to condition you? Whatever it was, it wasn’t to treat your anxiety and depression, it wasn’t to get you high so you can have fun.

Maybe it was to control you.

And that thought concerned you as you followed Mark to the room you had been put in the day before. Seeing it once again made your fingers clench, a lightbulb above you flickering as your eyes narrowed. The smell of feces and urine made your head pound, thoughts wild as you imagined what could happen now. Would you get more toothpicks under your nails? What were their intentions this time around?

Mark opened the door, revealing the bright, white tiles that coated the walls and floors. You tried to ignore how nervous you were, not wanting to show Mark your fear. So you bit your tongue, clenching your fists to allow the sparks to travel up your arms in a desperate attempt to feel powerful. You had to have control this time around. You couldn’t be a scared little bunny, not anymore. They would take advantage of you, they would hurt you.

What you did not expect to see in the room were chains bolted to the ground, and a large barrel full of water. You frowned in confusion, not expecting for hands to grab your wrists. You cried out, reflexes too slow from the drugs.

You were suddenly kicked in the back of your knee, a move that essentially crippled you as you dropped to your knees. Whatever yell was in your throat died as the cold sensation of metal clasped around your wrists, binding them together behind your back. When you tried to lift them, there was the sound of chains being stretched and hitting one another. The startling revelation that these chains were made for you made the sparks flicker dangerously, the electric hum from the ceiling growing louder in your ears.

But when you tried to find the hum emitted by Mark’s body, you couldn’t find it. It was gone, faded into the panic racing in your chest and the cold grip of the shackles on your body. You needed to focus, you realized, but as the chains shook and the loud sounds of footsteps bounced off of the walls behind you, focus was incredibly hard to find.

The soft click of heels made you stop strugglings, eyes widening as you tried to look behind you. But the sound of those shoes didn’t even require sight for you to understand who had arrived…

The woman.

No...Widowmaker

“Hello, little lamb,” she cooed, and you squeezed your eyes shut, trying to block her voice out, trying to focus on the hum. You had to get out of here before they did whatever they planned to do, which you assumed involved the water. It was rather obvious of what they were going to do, but that didn’t mean you were frightened about it, trying to avoid it.

You didn’t reply to Widowmaker, instead continuing to try and find the hum, trying to stretch your fingers and let it course through your arms. You needed to experience it, not merely feel its touch. It needed to spread through your whole body, completing you in more ways than one. It needed to stretch your body, your very human limits until you were the hum, and everything else around you.

You needed to simply _be_.

But the sparks that danced around your fingers could only reach to where the cuffs were latched around your wrists, preventing you from stretching yourself until you could flow into Mark’s hum, and then the woman’s. Then, you could be free, you liked to think.

But of course the reality was much more harsh.

Sharp fingernails dug into your cheeks, forcing your eyes open. Bright, gold eyes stared back at you, crinkling ever so softly due to a smirk on her thin lips. She looked amused, as though she were watching a hawk pick apart its prey with its talons, bit by bit. It made you feel small under her vast stare, seeing you not as you were, but as the potential monster they could make you be.

“Sleep well?” she asked you, not really looking for an answer. But you gave one anyways with the slight curl of your lips, the slight furrow in your brow. It made her giggle a soft, breathless kind of laugh, a noise that made you tense even more under the weight of shackles and the future.

She got to her feet, disappearing to your right with the soft clack of her heels on the tile. A finger ran itself along your bare arm, making you hold perfectly still as you could barely breathe. Goosebumps prickled to life on your skin from her a touch, an action that made her breathe out another giggle. You narrowed your eyes, turning your head back to the barrel of water that was just below your chin. You could see your reflection bouncing with the ripples of water, briefly catching a sight of Widowmaker.

You supposed she was beautiful, but the whole psychopath personality ruined any potential beauty. You found yourself wondering if she always was this insane, or maybe she was normal at one point, like you were. Maybe something terrible happened to her, and a slight pang of pity was wrung out of you as you sat and thought, waiting for whatever test would be coming next.

And then she snapped her fingers, and you saw Mark stiffen, preparing for orders. Your eyes widened, mouth opening in preparation for inquisitive words when your felt hands grab your hair, bundling it into a fist to yank it back. A cry replaced the words dying on your tongue, and you didn’t have time to breathe before you found yourself submerged in ice cold water.

Your hand instinctively reached up to try and push yourself up off of the barrel, but they were restrained to your back. You screamed underwater, a foolish mistake as the little amount of air in your lungs floated to the top in the form of bubbles.

Back when you were a child, when you had first started to learn how to swim, one of the lessons was to open your eyes under the water. All other kids could do it, but the chlorine burned your eyes when you tried, and you kicked to the surface, sputtering for air with tears losing themselves in the drops of water on your face. Your teacher had been kind at the time, telling you it wasn’t necessary but it helped in the future when you forgot goggles. You didn’t understand why, however, as the view was blurry anyways.

And as you tried to pull your head up out of the water for air, you found your eyes open, trying to find somewhere to escape to only to see the wood of the barrel. It was awful, feeling hopeless as your vision turned black in the corners and your lungs burned. You’d never felt the fear of drowning, the closest you’d ever gotten to such a terrifying event when you kicked off of the bottom of a pool too late. It had hurt as you swimmed up to the surface with the absolute, primal need for air, but not like this.

Nothing could compare to this.

Just as you felt yourself slip from consciousness, body going limp as your struggles grew less ferocious, your hair was pulled once more. The intoxicating sensation of getting air into your lungs made you gasp, blinking away the water in your eyes. It was quiet in the room, a surprise to you as it felt much more intense and deserved incredible music to go along with it.

But no, you didn’t deserve greatness.

You deserved pain.

You heard the click of the heels in front of you, and you looked up with hatred in your eyes, water steadily dripping off of your chin into the barrel. You wondered how you looked to the woman, who stared down at you with pleased, golden eyes, posture impeccable as she held her arms behind her back.

She looked like she was in power here, and you supposed she was. Was she doing this just for pleasure? Or was she trying to torture you for information, trying to prove another point?

Whatever it was, you hated her for it.

And she knew it… No. She took pride in it.

“Lesson learned, little lamb?” she asked, and you furrowed your eyebrows, not understanding the question. What was the lesson to be learned here? You were the one dragged into this damned room to be tortured. Maybe you were being punished for not showing your nude body to the asshole plunging your head into the barrel. Maybe it was for resisting the drug injection earlier, which was beginning to wear off with the onslaught of adrenaline.

Whatever the Widowmaker saw on your face, she was not pleased with it. She rolled her eyes with a sigh, snapping her fingers again. “Maybe this will give you enough time to think,” she sneered.

This time, however, you were prepared and took a deep breath as Mark’s hands tangled themselves in your locks. When your head was submerged beneath the water, you did just as she asked, whether you wanted to or not.

What did she want you to do? She wanted you to learn a lesson, but what lesson was that? Learn how to hold your breath? Sure it was effective, but it seemed too dull, too tame for her. Widowmaker seemed the time of person to get off on someone else’s pain, but she needed a thrill out of it. Watched someone be drowned by a soldier seemed boring unless there was an ulterior motive.

Before you knew it, even with the deep breath you took, your lungs began to burn as carbon dioxide flooded your systems, replacing any oxygen left. This was longer than the last time, much longer. The corners of your eyes began to fade to black, your hands pulling on the chains subconsciously.

You needed air.

But the hands didn’t let up, holding you under even as you began to shake your head to try and fight back. He needed to let you up...Now…

The overwhelming urge to take breath began to replace all thoughts, and you squeezed your eyes shut, not believing this is how you would go. Even after surviving two terrorist attacks, this was how you were going to die. Just because some blue bitch wanted to get off on your death…

Air greeted your wet lips as Mark pulled back on your hair. Gasps and coughs echoed loudly, and you briefly saw the smirk on Widowmaker’s face as she tapped at her chin with a finger. She was pleased with what she saw, and you wondered what her eyes were observing. Was she looking at a little lamb, or something more?

“What do you want me to learn?” you coughed out desperately, and she hummed as she took graceful steps towards you. The click of the heels made you look down for a few moments until fingers pulled your chin up. You looked at her under your brow, cursing how the corners of her lisp turned up in amusement.

“Little lamb…It’s not what I want you to learn...It’s what you need to do,” she said before looking to Mark, snapping her fingers. You opened your mouth to beg, but Mark pushed you down even deeper into the water of the barrel. This was the last time, you realized as his fingers knotted with absolute menace around your strands of hair, the sharp pain on your scalp not even comparing to the burn in your throat.

You were going to die, and Mark was going to kill you.

All because you didn’t show him your tits.

The anger you felt swell in your chest replaced the intense burning, swirling around with the realization of death and the need to live until it became powerful. Until it became hungry.

The blood rushing in your ears was replaced by a hum you had lost in the metal of your chains, racing through the gaps of your fingers up past the shackles. You could feel the burn in your lungs stretch to every part of your body, your vision going dark as you became more than a human, more than one body…

You were the main hung by his own misery in a cell for three days before anyone noticed… You were the dried bloodstains on the walls and the scratches on one soldier’s arms as he held down a girl’s head for his own satisfaction… You were the girl singing to herself as she knotted her own noose made of her blankets…

You were their pain, the misery printed into this place like words in a book.

You were your pain, endless and limitless with the infinite universe.

You clenched your fist.

And then you were breathing, the hands around your hand releasing abruptly. The presence behind you disappeared too, a harsh drop on the floor making you look behind you to the best of your abilities. The familiar smell of copper stung your nose as you saw the sole of Mark’s boots.

You narrowed your eyes at the sight until clapping caught your attention. You directed your attention towards Widowmaker, who was smiling a sadistic grin as she clapped her hands together in a voiceless “Hurrah!”. This was what she wanted… She wanted you to overcome your limits, to kill without remorse.

And as you smelled the blood spilled by your powers on Mark, you felt nothing.

And that terrified you.

Widowmaker walked behind you and unlocked the shackles bruising your wrists and ankles. Within a moment, you were spinning around and grabbing her throat, shoving her against the wall with an animalistic snarl. The water dripped off of your angry face, staining your dirty clothes now fresh with a dead man’s blood.

But as you held her up against the wall, there was fear in her eyes. There was only pleasure, as though she were _actually_ getting off on this. With that thought you dropped her, taking hesitant steps back. Something wet touched your feet, and you didn’t look down, knowing damn well what your skin was painted with.

You took harsh breaths, blinking back the tears and swallowing the sobs that threatened to come. You needed this pain to go away, you needed to forget it…

Your heart leaped in your throat as Widowmaker pulled out a large needle from God knows where. You were sure that all villains needed to have some special ability to pull out plot devices from their assholes or something…

“Your reward, little lamb,” Widowmaker sighed, looking you up and down. You could feel her eyes trace every stain, every shake your body emitted… “Or should I call you little wolf?” she giggled and you looked away, crossing your arms. It was a defensive, submissive move, you knew that.

But it got her to cut the crap, taking a few steps towards you.

This wasn’t what you were supposed to become… You weren’t supposed to go along with this prison, with this hellhole. You were supposed to fight, get out of here, anything other than this. You weren’t supposed to become their little pet project, become their puppet.

You weren’t supposed to be a murderer... a druggie…

But you stretched your arm out anyways, biting your lip as the needle slid into your veins and the soft relief of the drug relieved the anxiety in your chest, the disgust in your throat.

You closed your eye as you dropped your arm back down to your side, feeling your emotions fade away into nothing. You were nothing. You were okay.

“See you tomorrow, little wolf.”

 

* * *

 

 

The cold water that hit your back was the only thing grounding you reality as you drifted away into your thoughts. The soft pat of the droplets of water on your bare skin as you hung your head, hunched over your nude body, reminded you of today’s mistakes, today’s nightmares.

You remembered how helpless you felt, how cold you felt in your final moment. The shame you felt as you let Widowmaker inject whatever drug this was into your veins, finally giving in after the years of anxiety and depression. You killed a man, for Gods’ sake. You didn’t deserve this relief, this nothingness.

You remembered the smell of his blood when you sent the hum through his body, letting him experience the feeling of everything you were, every atom that held you body together was ripped apart, electron by electron. You remembered the smell of his bowels releasing from the sensation of death relaxing his body, but not relaxing his fried, burnt brain. You wondered if he saw his mother in his final moments, or if he saw the girls he had raped and left in the same position you were in.

You wondered endless things until your tears were hot against the cold shower’s water, sobs wracking your body. The only thing holding you together were your arms wrapped around your knees, falling inward on yourself to try and stay alive, try and be okay. The drug had made things easier, but now your stomach was churning and...Oh no you were-

You pulled yourself the pot that was your toilet, trying to ignore the smell of your own urine and excrement. But the smell only worsened your gags and you returned the little bit of food you had to the world. The acid of your stomach burned your throat as you threw up, and eventually dry heaved.

The cold air was not kind on your sickly body as you collapsed next to the pot, shivering as the drops of water bounced off of the cement and onto your legs. You lay there, nude and restless as you thought of countless ways to end this, end this suffering.

You closed your eyes, wondering if you could freeze to death on this tile floor, praying to the voiceless air that you would freeze in your sleep. But the only thing you heard in response was a familiar coo, dark and warm as it wrapped around you.

You fought the warmth as first, trying stay in the sweet, embrace of the cold by pushing it away, small cries from your throat. But it grabbed your hands, holding them together as you were lifted up off of the cool, wet tile.

You were flying, or something like that. You were in the air, the cold breeze kissing every inch of skin it could find. It was a brief thought, but you wondered if God was taking you away from this prison, going back on his sentence of damning you to Hell. It was a brief thought, and a brief wish as you felt something warm and soft on the back of your body.

You frowned, opening your eyes to stare God back. His brown eyes stared back at you, eyebrows turned down into a frown. You reached up, a soft, “What happened to you?” on your lips, but he beat you to it.

“You’re an idiot,” he said, and you smiled.

“I bet you love seeing me like this, huh?” you said. “Broken, near death…”

You found yourself slipping away, closing your eyes before drifting to sleep.

The next morning, you woke up in clean, new clothes, your pot clean, and warm blankets tangled around your body. You only barely noticed the glass of water on the floor next to your bed with a note.

_I hate it._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well...I hope ya'll liked this chapter!!!  
> COMMENT what you think!  
> the comments can be simple "oh my god" to intense feedback, idc! any comment i love, and whenever i see a comment i smile. all comments influence me! if you say "i really like this" i'll probably spend more time on that, or if you say "i dont like this or i dont understand this" ill try and fix that!  
> comments help shape this story!  
> LEAVE KUDOS!!!  
> kudos=motivation!  
> more kudos = more chapters, and quicker too :)  
> HAVE A GREAT DAY/NIGHT, READERS!!!  
> dont let reaper bite ;)  
> <3 <3 <3


	6. Attempt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Little lamb...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay i uploaded this a couple days ago but really really really hated it... so i went back and edited it to make more sense and stuff.   
> this chapter covers a lot of heavy stuff in terms of emotions and how the reader is handling the newfound responsibility of understanding they killed a man, even though he was a dick. obviously, considering the previous hints of the reader having some mental issues...  
> here's some trigger warnings !  
> TRIGGER WARNINGS:  
> talks of suicide  
> suicide  
> suicidal thoughts  
> drugs  
> IF YOU'RE NOT COMFORTABLE WITH THE ABOVE,  
> READ WITH CAUTION!  
> THERE WILL BE A SUMMARY IN THE END NOTES IF YOU CAN'T HANDLE THIS !  
> i get it if you cant   
> ENJOY THIS CHAPTER :)

If your new guard who woke you up with a harsh butt of the gun to your back thought strangely of the new accommodations to your room, they didn’t show it. Hell, you didn’t even really know what to think of it as you rubbed at the sore spot on your back, yawning as you slowly walked over to your shower.

Memories of the day before had yet to return to you as you peeled off your clothes, stopping to notice towels set next to where the shower curtain ended. You frowned, picking it up to inspect the object. It seemed cleaned, and with a sniff, you didn’t smell anything off about it. The brief thought that this was some trick played by Widowmaker was dismissed at the thought of being able to get dry, and you turned on the shower, hanging your head as you let the water run down your nude body. 

And now...now it was time for the grogginess to wear away and the dangerous thoughts to return to their rightful place.

After all, you deserved this. You deserved the pain and regret that came with taking a life, however evil it was. It was easier to say that a man deserved to die when you were watching the story unfold on your couch eating popcorn. There was a clear line between right and wrong then, but as the hum softly sang in your ears, the line became blurred as you felt the energy coursing through your skin, playing with your body. 

You were a weapon, built to kill. The reality haunted you as you pushed your hair back, staring at your bare feet as the water drained. You wondered what Lucy would think of you now; only a few days after her death and you were hooked on whatever drug this place was pumping into you, conditioning you to do their dirty work, to be their weapon. The thought that maybe she wouldn’t give up her life if she saw what you would become was a heavy one, making you close your eyes as you sank to your knees. 

She made you promise that you would live, but would she want that if you were killing people? If you were playing into these people’s hands?

With a sob, you laid your head on the tile of the ground, closing your eyes as tightly as you could to try and forget. You had to forget the smell as Mark died, the small smile on Widowmaker’s face as she saw you as you truly were; a monster. You were supposed to be dead, killed by the terrorist’s at the mall 60 years ago. And as you sat there, sobs bouncing off of the walls to unresponsive ears, you wished you’d taken the bullet, leaving your hands at your sides instead of throwing them forward. 

You wondered… If you knew your fate on that damned day, would you have tried to stop it? If you knew you would become what you now were, would you have closed your eyes and bit it?

You wished you did. 

With a sniffle, you looked up at the shower curtains, trying to push aside your grief, your emotions. What could you do? The answer was obvious as you rubbed at your nose, crossing your arms to cover your nude body. The real question was...did you have the balls to do it? 

Over the course of your life, suicide was always a far-off option. You figured that if you were still miserable and lonely by the time you were forty with no spouse or kids, you would off yourself. If things weren’t looking to get any better, you would end it as life had nothing more to offer to you, as you had nothing left to offer to the greed called life. Of course, you never told anyone those plans. 

But now...now it seemed as though your time had come much earlier than intended. 

With a deep, shaky breath, you turned off the shower, simply standing behind the curtain as the cold air swept and circled your body. Goosebumps pricked you as they rose from the breeze, but it didn’t bother you as you simply savored the sensations. 

So this was how you died... a prisoner in a prison built to break people into their core molecules only to build them up again, but as a weapon. No longer was a person a human...they were merely an opportunity, a research project that could go either way. You were their project, and you would not let them use you to their advantage. 

With a deep breath, you peeked out from behind the curtain to see your door closed. The only way to see outside your room was the little window in your door that could be closed with a slider door. Bars were also in the small window so that prisoners couldn’t attack guards through it. With a sigh of relief, you realized that the guard would have no idea of your intentions, and hopefully by the time they realized it was too quiet or it was time for another injection, it would be too late.

You would be gone. 

The thought of finally being dead made your stomach twist itself into knots, a tangle of earbuds in your pockets back when times were more simple and were defined by deadlines for work and classes. The thought of suicide was much easier to have than the realization you were about to do it. Of course, you could choose not to go through with your plans, but the alternative to dying was living in this prison. Either way, in your eyes, you would probably die resisting, and it would be a cruel, slow death. Or you could become their mindless husk to give orders. 

Suicide seemed like a nicer option. 

You flexed your fingers, wondering if you could kill yourself with your own powers. People often times had a core of energy, holding their most significant memories and emotions. Mark’s had been evil, consisting of the corpses he had been responsible for and the sick pleasure he derived from their death. Sure, there had been a few memories of the fond smile of his mother as she cooked his favorite meal, throwing snowballs at his brothers and sister Christmas morning, being chosen as an elite soldier for...Talon, was it? Was that what this organization was called? 

Not very original, was it. 

Terrorist organizations often times had scary names, like the Klu Klux Klan or the Nazi Party, or ISIS. But Talon? It didn’t really strike a fear in your chest, but you supposed that now you were in their prison, you should be fearful. The threat of being attacked by either of the previous Terrorist organizations had been very low, and you’d never felt immediately threatened. At least Talon lived up to their promises, you supposed. 

As you tried to find your core, you couldn’t. There was no soft hum from your body, no core full of memories like graduating high school, your first kiss, getting Justice from the shelter as a puppy… You wondered if the power was only meant to serve you, not end you. You snorted… Of course it wouldn’t do the one thing you needed it to. 

Biting your lip, you hummed a song to yourself as you pulled your grey sweatpants on and then a tight, black turtleneck tank top. You turned to look at yourself in the mirror on the wall, drying your hair with a towel. You watched your reflection move, touching yourself up here and there so you would look good hanging from the ceiling. It was a morbid practice, you told yourself, but to be quite frank, you didn’t give a fuck. You deserved to look good, you believed. Especially after everything that had been taken from you in the last few days. 

You looked around your room to try and find a suitable candidate for a noose before settling on your blankets. On one of your bad nights in your teenage years, you’d googled things to make a noose out of, and found a nice, long list with answers. Blankets seemed to be a common choice in prison, and it only seemed right you go out in the same way. 

You slowly stepped over to your bed, grateful for whoever had loaned you the blankets. Before, you had small sheets that wouldn’t work as great. And if this failed, you could always break the glass that had the water in it and perform a more crude and desperate attempt. 

The song you were humming continued without hitch as you sat on your bed and began to work on tying the blankets into the noose. You wondered where you could tie it higher up, and settled on the bars in one of the windows above your bed. Your work wasn’t amazing with the blanket, but you were sure it could work. You tied it to the bars in your windows, humming growing just a bit louder as you stepped back off of you bed to look at it. 

You wondered if your time was running short, as you had no idea if breakfast was approaching. Based on the sun’s light, it seemed as though it were six in the morning, and it would be a mere twenty minutes before seven in the morning. You narrowed your eyes, wondering if it would be enough time before deciding that you didn’t care. It was now or never.

You couldn’t risk what today would bring considering Widowmaker’s sadism and determination to break you into two, only to make herself the glue when piecing you back together. What would that make you? 

_ Who would that make you? _

You would need a decent height to step off of, so you cast one last glance back at the guard. They would definitely hear the sound of you moving your bed, so you bit your lip, narrowing your eyes. You’d need a distraction…

You could either resort to killing them with your powers or…

A snicker, and you were quickly walking over to the door. You tried to look ashamed and uncomfortable as you stood on the tips of your toes to try and block the sight of the guard in the small window. You cleared your throat and the guard turned to look at you, confused. “Um...I’m sorry, but I need um...some feminine hygiene products,” you whispered, and they rolled their eyes with a grumble. 

“Really? Jesus, you women are so needy,” they hissed before giving you a stern look. “Don’t go anywhere...not that you could, but behave,” they told you and you nodded, trying to look grateful. 

“Thank you so much!” you said and they rolled their eyes before storming off to get the products you didn’t need. You wondered why Talon didn’t give all female prisoners some treatment or whatever science shit they had nowadays to prevent periods. Maybe it was too expensive, or would interfere with their research. 

But those thoughts were cut of as you quickly raced back to your bed, realizing you probably only have a few minutes to move the bed. By the time the guard returned, you had to be dead. If they entered your room after getting the pads and tampons they would notice the noose, and the moved bed. You would be punished, so now was it. 

You pulled your bed frame back with all your force, moving it just far enough where there was enough space for you to hang. As you climbed back up on your mattress, you stared at the noose, anxiety hot in your chest. You felt as though you were burning from the inside out with fear. Were you really about to do this?

You took a deep breath, reaching up and slipping your head into the noose. You tightened it around your neck as tightly as you could before climbing up onto the metal frame of your bed.

This was it. One step, and everything would be over…

The drugs, the memories, the regrets…

You wondered if there would be an afterlife, if you would see Justice and all your friends. Maybe it would just be all black as you floated through space, without form and without thought. Was that a curse, or a gift?

You weren’t sure. But you were about to find out. 

You took a step, and you fell. 

The first sensation you felt was an incredible grip around your throat as you were caught. Your feet tried to find purchase on the ground, stretching as your toes skated across the tile. It was so painful, so incredibly painful as you tried to breathe. But air wasn’t getting through, it was stuck in your mouth. Your fingers wrapped around the blankets around your throat, trying to pull it off and break free.

But you couldn’t.

Black spots flickered in your vision and you felt consciousness begin to slip from your grasp. Your lungs burned, and you remembered the water around your head from just half a day ago. 

Should you have stopped fighting Mark yesterday? Maybe… But it was too late now.

The hum grew louder in your ears as your struggles began to cease, your feet simply hanging as your arms went limp at your side. 

You closed your eyes.

 

You drifted among the darkness, feeling the universe at the very tip of your fingers. It was warm, but as it melted in your grasp, it grew cold and wet, dying your skin a brilliant blue. But you did not have skin, and you did not have a body. You simply were.

And it was brilliant. 

But it melted away into grey tiles, the hum growing deafeningly loud as you breathed in...out...in…

And then you possessed a form, a name, a being. The universe melted away into the brown eyes above you, the loud alarm piercing the air and the prick in your arm.

You looked down, seeing a familiar needle stuck into your skin. There was a finger on the tip, pressing as the familiar cold splash of the drug flooded your system. 

You wanted to sink away into the warmth of the drug, float among the stars as your thoughts were silenced.You wanted the pain to stop, the regrets in your chest to fall apart into your heartbeats and the breaths that inflated your lungs. 

But life was cruel. And it reminded you that you were alive. 

So you snapped.

The hum grew louder until it was the only thing you heard. You could see the colors of people’s cores, some bright and mesmerizing and some dark and foreboding. Some reached for you with yearning fingers, begging you to grab them and pull...pull until they were free to roam the galaxy. But when you reached forward, you instead grabbed back at the universe, bringing it into your grasp. The colors returned, painting you in brilliant blues and purples and pinks until you were the singularity in which this world was formed…

And you exploded. 

There was screaming, loud and inhumane. You were wondering if maybe you had left this universe only to enter another, birthed from a dying animal bleeding from your delivery. It echoed in your ears, and you realized it was coming from you. There was blood in your mouth as you burst, the hum coursing through your body as though it were your veins, your arteries. 

You wondered if your body would break apart as you screamed, and as the hum faded into the background along with the cosmos, you found yourself still somehow whole, if unfortunately alive. But now you were burning with the cores of stars, brilliantly hot and dangerous as they lived, and continuously died.

What had just happened was not entirely comprehensible as you blinked back the stars in your vision, feeling the cold tile against your bare, warm skin. You wondered where you were before remembering that you were supposed to be dead, a startling revelation that made you sit up with a sharp inhale. 

The scene that greeted you made you just as dizzy, if not more, as the blood rushed to your head. 

Guards lay on the floor, some unconscious and some groaning, slowly moving. You looked at them with wide eyes, a shaking hand holding your head while the other covered your agape mouth.

Had you done this? You must be responsible...and at that thought, the scalding heat the burnt away at your skin increased in intensity, earning a soft hiss. Your gaze turned from the bodies as you looked to your arms, breath stuttering at the sight.

Your veins were white, damn near glowing. The sight looked familiar to when Widowmaker had tortured you with toothpicks, a memory that made you shiver. The lights responded to your emotions, it seemed like, as they grew brighter as your fear grew stronger. 

Were you even human?

Shaking your head, you grabbed the wall to your right and pulled yourself up, standing on shaky and weak legs. It was cool against you, and closing your eyes, you pressed your head against it, trying to ground yourself. 

You had died...you’d felt it. Had your powers done this to try and bring you back? Or had the guards revived you, and the disruption in your travels through...the afterlife had resulted in this? 

The questions bothered you, but the alarm was more annoying. So you opened your eyes. 

The door to your cell was open, and the alarm blared loudly throughout the cell block. You didn’t see any more guards at the door, so you slowly approached it, confused. If there were no more guards present, and the door was open...

Did you have the chance to escape? 

With a deep breath, you looked around you, preparing for the worst. If there were guards, you weren’t going to allow them to stop you from escaping. And if you lost this opportunity and would still be trapped behind these walls, you had one more option with the cold metal of a weapon in your hands. 

You would not be theirs. 

The hum was softer now, indeed. But it was still there, runnings its seductive kiss along your arms as you looked at the walls outside your open room. How could you know that there weren’t guards waiting for you, prepared to shoot you down? The scream was loud, surely attracting plenty of Talon personnel. And there was an alarm, on top of that. 

You licked your lips, reaching for the hum until it was loud in your ears, serenading you with a brilliant song few had heard. It felt raw in your grasp, the glow brilliantly lighting up as you felt it wrap around you, tighter than from before. Whatever you had done, it had drained you. 

There seemed to be two guards out in the hallway as you found their own song. Reaching into their core, you only felt fear, seeing memories of their first love, the wife they went home to, the secret lover one man had…

You wondered if you had to kill them. You wondered if the man’s wife would get a call later that day from Talon, expecting it to be her husband checking up on her only to hear he was dead. You wondered if the man’s secret lover would have to grieve behind closed doors, resorting to self medicating instead of therapy in the form of a bottle. 

It was you or them, you told yourself. 

With a deep breath, you decided it was you or them, and took a step out and turned-

Only to be pulled back into your room, door slamming shut and locking as soon as the loud bang echoed in your ears. Talons dug around your mouth, muffling your scream of anger and frustration. Those talons belonged to one ma-monster, and you threw an elbow back to throw him off. 

Of course he would stop you. 

You turned to see the man in the owl mask, a sight that made your lips pull back with an animalistic snarl. You shouldn’t have been surprised, and asked yourself why you felt betrayed. Memories from the night before made you wonder if he was the one who had dressed you and gotten you the wonderfully useless blankets. 

It didn’t matter now, though. He was the reason why you were here, in the first place. And he would do everything to keep you here until you ended up like him; Talon’s bitch. 

“You bastard,” you hissed, pulling the weapon in your hands up as your finger pressed against the trigger. The bullets that were supposed to spray out and kill the man were missing, however, and as you squeezed the trigger, there was just a soft click. The smugness the monster felt practically intoxicated the air, and you looked at him from under your brow. Lifting it up with a cry, you threw it at him, only for him to catch it. “You bastard!” you cried, blinking away the tears in your eyes. 

He didn’t say anything, however, as he took the clip out and pocketed it, dropping it at his feet. 

It bounced off of the ground, hitting a guard in the face. But the monster didn’t seem to care as he took a step towards you. You wondered if you were still glowing, and came to the conclusion that you weren’t as you reached for the hum. The new but familiar burn in your veins returned as you drew it closely into your chest, finding the coo the man’s core whispered. The coo was intoxicating, and you couldn’t wait to feel its beat in your blood as it died, singing a death march to the-

But you were suddenly on the ground, held down by an impressive weight and sharp gauntlets digging into your wrist to the point where it drew blood. A cry came from you as you smacked your head on the ground, the hum retreating back behind the curtain that protected this world from the raw power the cosmos possessed. Your vision thrummed with black spots as you stared at a familiar mask, seeing those damned brown eyes behind it. 

You hated that this monster was once a man. You wished those eyes were black or red with animosity. It would make hating him so much easier...

You tried to fight back, to find the hum once again but when you reached for it, nothing came. You only heard a sad song, lost in the coo of this man, this monster. He seemed to consume the hum, a reality that made you bare your teeth and try to kick him off. You never were physically strong, and he knew it. It didn’t take much for him to hold you down as you struggled, tiring yourself out. 

You wondered if he enjoyed this, watching you squirm like a worm about to be crushed between a cruel kid’s fingers. But he surprised you. He merely stayed where he was, silent. The only noise from him was the song in his chest, addictive like a cigarette. 

“Let me go!” you hissed, trying to ignore the fear threatening to spill over in your eyes. But he didn’t, and soon your struggles finally ceased, body growing tired from the sheer power you had used. You tried to ignore the tears that dripped down your face, feeling small and miniscule under the man’s eyes. “Please,” you begged, voice cracking. 

And he did. He got to his feet, pushing himself up with such anger and frustration you felt afraid for a moment. A growl rumbled through the room as he shook his head. “You are a fucking idiot,” the man said, and you frowned, surprised that he had spoken. With a shaky sob, you sat up, rubbing at your wrists. The man turned his back on you, smoke blending in with the darkness of his grim outfit choice. 

At first you wondered if the hum was returning, but instead it was soft, upset Spanish being hissed. You narrowed your eyes, getting to your feet. The man...monster was hispanic? 

But before your thoughts could continue, he spun around, getting up in your face within a few, long steps. You felt the wall against your back as you retreated, intimidated by his speed and by him in general. You hated the fear you felt, and you bit your lip as the smoke he emitted began to dance around your body. 

“Do you know what they’ll do to you? They will pick you apart until you have no emotions, no thoughts besides following orders like a machine,” he hissed, and you thought of Widowmaker. Was that what had happened to her? “And it will hurt… It will hurt like nothing you have ever felt before in your short, sheltered life,” he growled, pointing a talon at you. 

You didn’t say anything, and merely stared up at him with wide, bloodshot eyes. But he wasn’t done...

“Why did you do it?” he asked, voice no longer angry. But his body was tense, waiting for an answer you wondered why you had to give. Why did these people wonder why you wanted to die? Wasn’t it obvious? 

You swallowed, taking a shaky breath, prepared for him to snap at you and beat you senseless. But instead he waited, smoke growing thicker in the air. “I...I’m a monster,” you bit out, and the smoke seemed to retreat, as did the man. He took a step back with a loud sigh, and you looked up at him in confusion. 

“You’re not a monster,” he told you, and you snorted. 

“I killed an innocent man with...with my thoughts,” you hissed, your own disgust with yourself taking the place of your fear. “I’m addicted to this damn drug, and I’m supposed to be dead,” you whispered, looking at your own hands with narrowed eyes. Your veins hummed under your sight, a brilliant, absorbing white that seemed to possess all colors. 

And then you looked to the bodies on the floor. 

How could you do this? Your last day in 2016 had been spent wondering if you could fight off the strange man at your porch, and here you were. 

Strange how quickly the world could change from one person. 

You didn’t know who you were anymore. You were no longer (Y/N), you were some twisted monster that took on her name. This world was not built to inhabit you, and it was obvious. There was a reason why you had these powers, and that was because you belonged to something else, something not meant to be accessible to those with the means to corrupt it. They would make you into a weapon, and you would not let them make you harm others. 

You had to stop it. 

Looking at the man, you dropped your hands to your sides. The power of his gaze was making you tremble, but that couldn’t stop you. This man...monster, for some reason, wouldn’t let you escape. So you had to take the situation into your own hands…

The hum of the power was drowned out by the man’s coo, so you had to distract him to gain accessibility to it. There was no way to destroy his core without the hum, so that meant you would have to break his focus. 

“You’re not a monster,” he finally said, words that made you smile bitterly. You would have laughed if you weren’t plotting, caught up in your own misery. 

Monsters were smart, so you had to be too. 

“How would you know?” you asked the man, looking back up at him with vulnerably eyes. You had to make him believe you were weak, which would be easy enough. He assumed you were emotional after your attempt, and while you were, your absolute need to be void of this world was stronger, more intense. 

You took a step towards him, catching eye of something sticking out from a guard’s belt. But you played your gaze to look as though you were in thought before focusing back on the man’s mask, gingerly reaching up to take it. He took a step back, and you dropped your hands back to your side. “I’m sorry…” 

The coo wavered. You smiled. 

The man looked away before reaching up towards his mask, fingers wrapping around it. “I know...because this is what a monster looks like…”

He lifted it, the coo wavered, and you reached. 

You reached into the curtain of the hum and pulled it back out, body glowing with intensity as your veins burned, set aflame. But that didn’t matter… Nothing mattered now. 

The hum wrapped around the man’s core, discolored and decaying within his body. It hissed at your touch before melting into blacks and greys and blues. 

And so you squeezed…

There was an audible crack as the coo cut off briefly, making the man collapse into smoke. That wasn’t what you were expecting, but his lack of form bought you enough time to slide past whatever remained of him. The metal of the gun in your hand felt cool and reassuring, absolutely sure of its powers. And you were sure of it as you flicked off the safety, remembering your last mistake with the gun the man had taken. 

You opened your mouth as wide as you could, cocking the gun as you bit down on the metal. Your eyes squeezed shut, and your finger wrapped around the trigger…

This was it. 

An arm pulled back the gun as you squeezed, the sound of the fire echoing loudly in your ears as another arm wrapped around your torso. It held something...a needle…

The hum melted away into the coo, hot breath on your neck and-

A prick. 

You looked down at your left arm, seeing a talon inject the drug through a needle. You screamed, a noise that had once devastated all men. But this monster was not a man…

He had given that up long ago. 

Tears dripped down your face as you felt sleep pull at the corners of your consciousness, your body melting back into the body behind you. The ability to control your motions disappeared as you collapsed, the needle being pulled out and thrown to the side.

Arms went under your knees and pulled you up, and you stared at the ceiling with wide, dry eyes. That was until cold fingers wrapped around your chin, turning your gaze to the side. 

Purple skin, gold eyes…

Widowmaker.

Her thumb rubbed at your cheek with mock affection, and you resisted the urge to bite her finger. “Oh little lamb...what have you done?” She looked around the room with a small smile on her face before looking back at you. “Tsk...tsk....tsk…” 

She sighed. 

“Don’t you worry…”

“We’ll fix you.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SUMMARY FOR THOSE WHO NEED IT:   
> the reader, unable to cope with the fact she killed a man, attempts suicide. she dies, but is brought back and in doing so, lashes out with her power to a whole new level. all guards in her room are knocked unconscious due to this, and when trying to escape, she's pulled by back reaper. reaper has the ability to "absorb" the hum considering how corrupt his core is, but only with focus. she breaks this focus and tries to destroy his core to escape, but it just puts him in smoke form. she takes a gun to shoot herself but reaper misfires it, and drugs her. upon escorting her out of the room, widowmaker confronts her with the promise to "fix her", referring to her mental stuff.   
> SUSPENSE!  
> i really hope you liked this chapter! this was a very serious chapter !   
> COMMENT PLEASE!  
> of course, if you ask a question about the story, i won't answer upfront because reading a story is supposed to raise questions later answered.   
> but comment your THOUGHTS!  
> i love reading your comments! it makes me v happy :)  
> LEAVE KUDOS!  
> kudos get this story noticed! and more views means more chapters and quicker too !!!  
> THANK YOU FOR READING!  
> and have a   
> GREAT DAY/NIGHT!  
> <3 <3 <3


	7. Jack Morrison

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Death changes things.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter isn't that long, but it really set up things and changes the story drastically.  
> ive implemented my interpretations of talon and how they control their soldiers and reaper, so i hope you guys like it!  
> nothing else to really say! i hope ya'll like this chapter :)  
> TRIGGER WARNINGS:  
> death  
> mention to self harm/suicide  
> ENJOY~~~!

The first thing you noticed when you woke up was that you had to pee. Really badly. 

The second thing you noticed was how cold you were, body covered with goosebumps as you shivered. There was something hard against your back, and your neck was sore, aching and you realized you were bent over yourself. Groaning, you sat up, hair sticking to your face which was evidently coated in sweat. But from what? 

Your question was answered as you sat up, back against the hard wood of an uncomfortable chair. Your eyes slowly cracked open, blinded by the lights of the room until you blinked a number of times, adjusting. It took a while, and you realized after a few moments the time it took was due to the interior of the room.

You were back in the cursed white room, where you had spent plenty of time being tortured and where you made your first kill. The thought made your stomach churn, and you tried to stand up only to feel restraints bound around your wrists and ankles. You frowned, tugging at them. They were tight, too tight for you to rip off. With a huff, you stopped trying to fight back, slumping in the chair with a huff. 

The room wasn’t different from your previous visits. There was no sign left of your struggles, even when you nearly died only to be responsible for another death. The thought made you bite your lip, closing your eyes to think about what had led you here.

Would you have ended up here if you didn’t try to kill yourself? Maybe this was their plan all along, or maybe they’d anticipated you would try and end your life. Maybe you were playing right into their hand, but the man from before had seem surprised, hell even angry you had done what you did. Maybe he was out of the loop. Widowmaker seemed to be the person in charge when it came to your imprisonment.. 

No wonder why you had tried to kill yourself.

The bitter thought made you huff out a small laugh, opening your eyes. But the room had changed, now sporting the blue woman standing in front of you. She was standing right in front of you, watching you with narrow eyes and a small smirk on her face. The sight of her made your skin crawl, and you sat up in your chair. Widowmaker looked strange against the white tile, with her brilliant colors.

You wondered if she had been in your position before. Was the last time she was in this situation when she was you? Your lips thinned with that thought. 

She took a step, before taking more and more as she circled around you. You tried to follow her movements, but before long, she was behind you. The soft click of her heels made you swallow, throat dry and heart beating fast. 

Cold fingers traced your shoulder, making goosebumps rise. The hair on the back of your neck raised, and you shivered. The fingers glided down your arm before wrapping around your wrist, raising it as far as it would go in the restraints. “Were you going to slit your wrists?” she whispered, breath hot against your neck. 

You narrowed your eyes, trying to ignore how your throat clenched and how your eyes burned. You swallowed roughly and she chuckled, rubbing her fingers along the inside of your wrist. “Were you going to break that glass and glide it along your wrist?” she asked you, and you raised your head in a defiant manner. 

The answer was yes, but she doesn’t need to hear it. She already knew it. 

“I was once weak like you,” she murmured, words that startled you. So you were right in your assumptions, but it didn’t make you feel any better. The realization that you could become what she was made your blood turn cold, and your eyebrows furrow. Your mouth was even more dry now as she hummed. “But then I realized something…”

She ran her finger along your body as she stepped to your side, slowly appearing in front of you. You looked at her from under your brow, trying to be brave. But not knowing what was next was terrifying, especially as it was controlled by a woman with blue skin and golden eyes. The corners of Widowmaker’s lips turned up as she sat on your lap, rubbing her thumb along your cheek. 

You flinched under her touch, a movement that made her purse her lips with a soft coo. “Oooh...are you scared of me, little lamb?” she asked, and you merely stared at her, clenching your hands into fists. She licked her lips before leaning forward. “Good,” she whispered, and her arm lifted up, holding something shiny. You frowned, opening your mouth until something sharp was  _ stabbed  _ into your neck.

A loud cry was ripped from your throat until a finger pressed against your lips, making you stop to look at what the fuck Widowmaker was doing. She was clearly mocking you, watching you with pleased eyes and flushed skin. Was she getting off on your pain? 

What the fuck. 

But before you could really add to the list appropriately dubbed as “What the fuck is wrong with Widowmaker”, you felt your focus slip. You frowned, shaking your head and blinking rapidly to try and push away the tug you felt. Sleep was dragging you back into its sweet embrace, beckoning you with romantic words promising time away from this Hell of a world. 

You could feel Widowmaker’s eyes on you as you fought back against whatever the psycho bitch had injected into you. She licked her lips and you groaned audibly at the sigh, a noise that made her eyes light up. “What...happened to you?” you bit out as your head slumped against the back of the chair. 

She laughed a laugh that made your skin feel as though spiders were crawling across it. You distinctly felt her fingers cup your cheek, but sleep was pulling you further away. “What will happen to you, _petit agneau._ ” 

_ Fuck, _ you thought just as sleep pulled you away from reality. 

You could smell the blood. It was the first thing you felt as you opened your eyes, finding yourself looking at a familiar, white wall with the words “Lush” printed on it. It was heavy in the air, making you breathe in through your mouth with fear shaking in your throat. 

The second thing you smelled was urine, and you looked over to see a familiar sight; the bath bomb on the ground in a puddle of your friend’s fear before they met their end. The realization you were back at the fated day where everything went wrong and nothing went right made you look back to the wall with a sharp inhale. 

Did you teleport yourself back here?

It seemed unlikely as you had no idea how you teleported yourself in the future, but the thought made you happy at the second chance and afraid of what was sure to come. You had told yourself you would happily accept death if it meant you didn’t end up back in Talon’s palm, but now...now maybe you had a chance at living. 

You thought, of all things, of Justice, waiting for you to come home. She’d be curled up in your bed, sleeping while inhaling your scent. You wondered if when you had disappeared they’d cleaned all your clothes, permanently erasing one last remnant of your life for your dog. 

You blinked back tears, swallowing a sob as you spared a look over the counter. The terrorists were walking around it, picking up bath bombs and throwing them at each other. You ignored the rage in your chest at the sight of them having fun. They weren’t allowed to have fun while you suffered. That was...unfair.

The childish thought made you feel small and insignificant, closing your eyes tightly to hold back tears. You wished life worked as you thought it did when you were a kid, naive and innocent to the sins of humanity. But it didn’t… It was cruel, and unforgiving…

And above all...it was unjust. 

You opened your eyes, biting your lip as you looked over to the deceased worker’s body. You needed to get that key, run through the back and run the opposite direction that you’d chosen your first time here. Maybe then...then you would get away. And maybe you could open your door to see Justice.

You nodded to yourself before crawling over to the corpse of the lady. You took the key off of her body, prepared to move on before stopping. Your eyes went back to her corpse, noticing how tears were staining her frozen face. Biting back tears, you reached up and closed her eyes, thinking of a prayer for her. 

The most difficult part came next. You had to get out of here without alarming the jackasses who had ruined your life. 

With a deep breath, you crawled over to the door before sliding the key in. Thankfully, it went in without any complications. Now, you had to turn it slowly enough so the door unlocking wouldn’t be loud enough to alarm the Terrorists. The soft click of the lock made you wince, looking over the counter to see that the assholes were kicking your friend’s dead body and dropping the bath bombs into the puddle of their blood. 

The sight made your stomach churn but you returned to your task at hand. They would want you to get out of this, to live. You kept telling yourself that as you turned the handle until finally...finally it was open. 

You slid through the crack before closing the door quietly, throwing the key into your back pocket before the door clicked shut. You locked the door before stepping back with labored breaths, throwing your hands up into your hair. You pulled at your locks, letting your tears flow freely. Sobs shook your body as you stood there, at a loss of what to do. 

Did you wait in here? Or did you run? 

Swallowing roughly you turned to look at the hallway of the stockroom. Surely the Terrorists would check back here, finding another key from another deceased worker. So you had to get out of here…

With another deep breath you turned and began to run out, trying your best to be quiet. You were sure they couldn’t hear you through the thick walls of the stockroom, but it was better to be safe than sorry. You slid the key into the door leading to the rest of the mall and unlocked it, stepping outside. 

Only to be hit in the face with the butt of a gun. All air in your lungs went out in one huff as you smacked your head into the brick wall of the exterior of the store. You tried to ignore the pain as you groaned, on your knees. You reached up to your nose and drew back your fingers, seeing the familiar sight of blood coating your skin.

What the fuck? 

You turned only to have hands grab the collar of your shirt, pulling you up and forward. You found yourself looking at a man with a blue visor, which was an odd choice of apparel but not surprising if he was a Terrorist.  You weren’t sure what was popular among Terrorist’s nowadays, so you didn’t question it as you stared at the man with loud breaths. 

“Your name?” he asked you, voice gruff. 

You merely stared at him, lips twisted into a snarl. You wouldn’t give this man what he wanted, not when he was behind killing your friends, killing your life. Who the hell was he, anyways? Last time you were here, he wasn’t here. But maybe things had changed as you had gone through the situation differently. 

You groaned at the thought of fucking up for good this time, but you didn’t have much time to grieve as the butt of the gun collided against your face again, sending you onto your knees. The taste of copper flooded your mouth and you groaned before being picked up again. You looked at the man through his visor once more. 

“Your name?” he hissed, and you smiled,spitting blood at his face. 

The man did not seem to like that, but he didn’t show his rage. Instead, he slowly and calmly wiped off the blood, before reaching to take off his visor. Bright blue eyes peered at you, taking sick pleasure in your pain. You growled at him, and he nodded in thought. Then, he yanked open the door to the stockroom, grabbing your hair. You cried out as he stormed through the hallway, dragging your body by your hair. 

You couldn’t help yourself. Swears and curses poured out of your mouth at the pain, your shirt riding up as your body was pulled along the ground. The pain was incredible, but your anger was greater as the man was merciless, bringing you back to the graveyard you had left. 

Once he got to the door that led back out to the store, he tried to open the door only to find it locked. He growled in anger before looking back down at you, surely not pleased to see your smirk. His hands gripped your shirt as he pulled you back up, breath hot against your face. “Where’s the fucking key, huh?” he asked, and you smiled, revealing your bloody teeth. 

“Go to hell,” you hissed, earning a harsh hit against your cheek. You hit the ground with a cry before the man pinned you down, shoving his hand into your jacket pocket. You yelled out, crying “Assault!” as he searched your pants pockets. It was only a matter of time before he found the key in your back pocket, smirking at you with it in his hands. 

“You’re nothing, bitch,” he said, and you returned the smile with one of your own. 

“Then why kill hundreds of people for me?” you whispered, and he grinned a large grin, making you realize you had admitted to being the girl they were looking for. You felt yourself pale as he stood up, chuckling to himself. 

“We didn’t kill them for you,” he said before wrapping his hand around your bicep, forcing you to your feet. The door opened and the smell of death and fear hit you once more, making your stomach churn from not just fear but disgust. The two jackasses from before turned and looked at you two with wide eyes before standing at attention at the sight of the man. 

You narrowed your eyes before looking at him. He must be a higher ranking member…

He stepped on the lifeless bodies of the workers before stopping by your friend. You hadn’t seen their body up close when they were killed, and the sight made you swallow heavily. They were so beautiful, full of life and energy. And to have it taken...to have it stolen just so they could have you…

The man gestured to the gunshot they had received. “You did this,” he said, and you looked up at him with wide eyes. 

“Why?” you asked. 

He smiled, leaning in closely. His blue eyes stared into yours, and you stared back.

“For existing.”

You woke with a jerk, a cry dying in your throat as you found yourself in the chair from before. The white tiles made you narrow your eyes, wincing at the sudden brightness. But once you finally peeked through the cracks of your eyes, you saw Widowmaker up against the wall in front of you. She was watching you with great interest, and upon seeing you conscious, she smiled. 

You licked your lips, trying to ignore how thirsty you were. “Who...no, what was that?” you asked her, and she kicked off of the wall, walking towards you. You watched her every movement, for once finding yourself not afraid but desperate for answers. 

She hummed as she approached you before crouching down in front of you, gold eyes bright. “That was reality,” she told you and you shook your head, disagreeing. 

“No...that didn’t happen…” A pause, and then… “Did it?” 

She smiled, understanding. “Yes, it did. You didn’t want to accept that you failed in your escape of the store, and your attempted murder of the man,” she told you and you visibly recoiled. You had tried to attack the man? You didn’t remember that, but it made sense. You would have done such a thing for being responsible for killing your friends. “He tried to shoot you when you used your powers,” she told you and you took a deep, shaky breath. 

“Right,” you said, closing your eyes due to the sudden headache you received. 

Cold fingers traced the restraint on your left hand, and you opened your eyes. Widowmaker was staring at your skin with some unknown emotion in her eyes, lips thin. “Such sadness,” she said, almost to herself. “Such...anger…” She turned her gaze to you. “Tell me, (Y/N), what if I told you the man responsible for the terrorist attack was still alive today?” she asked, and your breath caught in your throat, body visibly tensing. The corners of her lips turned up at the sight, and you licked your lips. 

“Is...is he?” you asked and she nodded, getting to her feet. 

“Oh yes...alive and well. He’s among a new Terrorist group called Overwatch, a group committed to spreading terror and bigotry,” she said, raising her hand. Suddenly, images flooded the walls. Some were videos, while others were information reports on various people. You assumed they were members of Overwatch, and you greedily tried to understand all of it. Was Talon really the enemy?

None of this made sense. 

But that didn’t matter… What mattered was that this man paid for his crimes against humanity…

Against you.

“We can train you, help your learn to control your powers so that you can join our forces and stop them,” she told you, and you took a deep breath, flexing your fingers as you listened to the soft hum. Would you put aside everything you had experienced in the past few days just for a chance at revenge? Would you become addicted to the drug just to stay in the ranks? 

You looked to one file in particular, seeing a familiar man. Soldier 76...a name you would remember until the hum took you and never let go. 

“His name?” you asked and Widowmaker made eye contact with you before flicking up, making the man’s file appear larger and more focused. 

“Jack Morrison,” she said and you hummed in acknowledgement before clenching your hands, dispelling the hum. 

“I’m in.”

Widowmaker smiled before looking behind you. The restraints around your body suddenly unlocked, and you rubbed at the covered skin, getting to your feet. She nodded at you, smiling with what you assumed was praise. 

“Welcome to Talon, (Y/N).” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so everyone,  
> WHAT ARE YOUR THOUGHTS?  
> comment what you think of the story so far, what you like and so on! im interested in everyone's thoughts!  
> LEAVE KUDOS!  
> kudos help get this story noticed and featured! better stats=quicker updates :)  
> HAVE A GREAT DAY/NIGHT~~~!!  
> thanks for reading!  
> <3 <3 <3


	8. Gabe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reader and Reaper bond

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OKAY LOYAL READERS...I DECIDED TO TREAT YA :)  
> now, this chapter establishes the connection between reader and reaper, and it also establishes some emotions. i hope ya like it, as im super nervous as to what yall will think about my interpretation of reaper.   
> nothing over PG, don't worry.  
> hope ya like it :)  
> TRIGGER WARNINGS:  
> reference to suicide and self harm

You woke up to a soft knock on your door, a noise that made you jerk awake in confusion with hope blossoming in your chest. Were you back to your home, waking up to the mail man delivering a package? The noise intended to wake you up was a stark contrast to the treatment you had been receiving for the past few days as a prisoner of Talon. 

Your sleep had often been interrupted with loud voices and the butt of the gun against your head, but now you were no longer a prisoner. 

Now, you were Talon’s recruit. You were to be trained to carry out missions, agreeing to their terms as long as you they would do one, simple thing for you.

And that was to let you put a bullet in Jack Morrison’s skull. 

You slowly opened your eyes, letting a deep breath out as you looked at your dark walls. No longer did you stare at the gray, stone walls that held the songs of previous prisoners deep into their core. Now you lay down in an actual bed, but you kept the sheets the man had given you. It felt ironic to close your eyes under the very thing that had killed you, but fuck it, they were warm. 

“(Y/N), breakfast is in thirty minutes,” a woman’s voice said, and you looked towards the closed door in surprise. Back in the prison block, you had never seen or heard a female guard. You wondered if they hired men specifically for the purpose of intimidating prisoners, but didn’t let it weigh on your mind. Today was your first day of training, and that required more of your attention. 

“Thank you,” you said, and you heard the soft tap of boots drifting away from your room. You took a deep breath and pushed back your blankets, revealing your body which was only clad in a loose tank top and tight black shorts. You had yet to receive your official uniform, but thankfully the woman who had given you all you needed for your stay had given you tight, black leggings and a long shirt with Talon’s logo on your left breast. 

You stretched with a long yawn, wondering how exactly you had ended up here. Just a day or two ago, you were hanging from the window in your room. And now you were training to become a soldier, or a “valuable asset” as Widowmaker had called it. The way life worked never ceased to amaze you. 

You pressed your bare feet to the ground, shivering from the cold as you stepped towards the door leading out to the hallway. It felt strange to have freedom in where you walked after being locked up for roughly a week. But the hesitation in your body as you pulled open the door made you roll your eyes with a bitter laugh before opening the door, grabbing your clothes and walking towards the community bathroom. 

There was no line in the female’s bathroom, thankfully, but there were plenty of women in there. Many of them were laughing and talking to one another while brushing their teeth and whatnot, and as you stepped in, their voices quieted as all eyes went towards you. You flushed under their gazes, looking down to your feet with thin lips. 

“We’ve heard about you,” one woman said, and you looked up, seeing a hispanic lady with a half shaved head. A toothbrush stuck out of her mouth as she placed her hand on her hip, a smirk on her lips. “Heard you gave the men hell,” she said, and you nodded, ashamed. She seemed to notice and she walked towards you, placing a hand on your shoulder which made your gaze turn back up. There was a smile on her face. “Good,” she said and the other woman cheered, hitting one another as they continued on with their activities. 

You couldn’t help the grin that came to your face as your fear melted away, the woman wrapping her arm around you as she led you towards the showers. “I heard from Reyes that you knocked out at least ten with your own voice,” she said, and you furrowed your eyebrows. She seemed to notice your confusion, and that damn grin crawled back to your face. “Oh, has he not told you his name?” With the shake of her head, she laughed. “Of course… He’s not very polite, is he?” 

You snorted, rolling your eyes. “You can say that again,” you grumbled and she threw her head back with a guffaw. 

“I’m gonna like you,” she said, punching your shoulder. She stopped next to you and you realized you were near the showers. Her hand was abruptly jutted out, and you looked at it with a frown. “I’m Sombra,” she said, and you reached out, shaking her hand. 

The skin-to-skin contact made her own personal song blare in your ears, coursing through your veins. It was loud and eccentric, full of energy and life but underneath, it was laced with pain. It made you jerk back, causing her to give you a strange look before shrugging it off. 

“See ya later, chica,” Sombra said as she walked back towards the sinks, hitting the ass of another soldier. You watched her go with a soft smile on your face before looking back at your hand. What the hell was that? 

Shaking your head with a sigh, you found a locker and stripped yourself of clothing, trying to not feel self conscious. No one seemed to be paying you any mind as you found yourself nude before running into the shower, savoring the privacy. Sure you’d changed in front of other girls in gym class, but even then, you knew the people. These were strangers, although you guessed they were fellow soldiers. It still felt awkward to you as you turned on the shower, throwing your head back with a silent moan as the first drops of warm water dripped down your skin. 

Back in your cell, cold water had been the only option with your shower. But this...this was heavenly. The sweet warmth made you merely stand there taking in the heat for a few moments before actually starting to clean yourself. The feeling of soap cleansing your body of dirt was heavenly, finally able to scrape away the dried blood still sticking to you. 

After a while you finally turned the shower off, simply standing there closing your eyes. You let the steam stick to your body as you listened to the girls talking and the soft pitter patter of the shower. 

Your fingers ghosted up to your neck, rubbing at the phantom sensation of the noose you had made only a day or two ago. The memory of hanging haunted you, a newfound trauma that never stopped nipping at your heels. You had done so many things you regret, and smell of copper and the feeling of death would never let you go. 

You rubbed at your face, shaking your head as you pulled open the shower curtain separating you from the bathroom. Your hand searched for the towel you’d positioned outside and wrapped it around your body. Stepping out, you shivered from the sudden change in temperature. Thankfully, no one else was around you as you dried yourself off, pulling your new clothes out. 

You pulled on your sports bra, and pulled on your underwear before tugging on your leggings. It was strange how the lady knew your size upon looking at you, but you weren’t complaining. The leggings hugged you perfectly, not restricting your movement in any manner. The shirt fit well too. 

Closing your locker, you turned and found your gaze traveling to one of the mirrors hung up. You looked different than when you first found yourself in the hospital’s bathroom. Bags were dark and heavy under your eyes, sleep interrupted by the sounds of gunshots ringing in your ears and the gaze from under a visor. Slowly, you took a few steps and approached the mirror, fingers on your face. Besides the bags under your eyes, you looked the same. But how you felt...you felt different. You felt wrong.

You felt disgusting. 

With a scoff, you looked around for what you needed. Thankfully, you saw a girl trimming her hair by the sinks. Biting your lip, you wondered if bothering her was a good idea before deciding,  _ Fuck it.  _

“H-hey,” you said as you approached her, and she looked at you through the mirror. A small smile came to her face and she turned to face you. 

“Hey, you’re screamo girl right?” she asked, and you visibly flushed at your title. But she laughed, making you relax. “No offense intended. We’ve heard good things about you,” she said, and you smiled, looking at your feet sheepishly before remembering your task. 

“Oh, um, can I borrow your scissors?” you asked her, and she nodded with a soft smile as she handed them towards you. 

“Just make sure to return them. Are you gonna cut your hair?” she asked you, and you nodded. You couldn’t bare resembling the girl you were just a week ago, busy with her job while being completely ignorant of her fate. You no longer were yourself. You were a new person, a soldier. It was time to start looking like one. 

“Thank you,” you said and she nodded before turning and walking back to the sink, pulling out a razor and shaving cream. You took a deep breath as you returned to where your stuff was, gradually approaching the mirror on the wall. 

You’d never cut your own hair. The thought of possibly ruining your locks made you nervous, so you’d relied on hairdressers and what not. But now, you had no other option. And you weren’t gonna let your own ghost haunt you. 

You stared back at yourself in the mirror, face unnaturally pale and eyes abnormally dark. It seems as though the recent words scrawled into the book of your life were flitting across your body, covering you with its ink and dying you with its meaning. Your fingers subconsciously lifted to the ends of your hairs, twisting them around and pulling on them. 

You were not the woman you were one week ago. 

You were a monster. 

With the thought you pulled down on a longer chunk of your hair, opening the scissors and harshly snipping it off. The locks slowly drifted down to the ground, and you saw your appearance change due to the action you just took. You were breathing heavily, disgusted with yourself. With a cry you began to chop away at your hair. 

The emotions within you were hot, uncoiling with the angry, sharp movements you made you with your hands. The soft snip of the scissors seemed much louder in your ears as you watched your hair drop to your feet. No matter how much air you breathed in, it didn’t feel enough as it stung your throat, tears pricking at your eyes.

Hadn’t you cried enough? 

Biting harshly on your lip, you snipped off the last piece of hair, leaving your hair as short as you wanted it to be. Your eyes were bloodshot, and you wiped at them, looking back down at your feet. The discarded strands stuck to your wet skin, an uncomfortable sensation that would have bothered you if it weren’t for loud yelling near the entrance to the bathroom.

You turned, a frown on your face. What was the commotion? Maybe some soldiers had gotten into a fight of sort. Shrugging with a sigh, you turned and bent over to pick off the locks of hair. 

The last thing you were expecting however were sharp, cold fingers to wrap around your wrist and pull you back. You cried out, surprised until you saw the familiar owl mask and dark leathers. This time, he wasn’t wearing his weird cape. He was wearing tightly fitted black pants with his regular boots, but his shirt was a simple, regularly issues long sleeve Talon shirt. You furrowed your eyebrows at the sight of him until he pulled up your other hand, which was grasping the scissors.

You could practically feel his anger radiating off of him, which made no damn sense because you hadn’t done anything. With that realization, you yanked yourself out of his grip, taking a step back. “What the fuck? You’re not supposed to be in here,” you hissed at him, and he turned his head towards you. 

“Wanna tell me why you have scissors,  cariño?” he asked, voice unusually gruff and dark. You crossed your arms in disbelief. Did this...man really just storm into a women’s bathroom just to chastise you for having scissors? Did he really believe you were gonna slit your wrists with it? You would have to be desperate to use dull scissors. 

But considering your actions just a day or two ago, you could see why he was freaking out. But didn’t he have better things to be doing? Like...consuming souls, or whatever he did? 

You snorted, rolling your eyes. “Did you really just storm through a  _ women’s restroom _ ,” you said, pausing to throw your arms around wildly to gesture to the setting. His gaze didn’t seem to move however, so you continued. “Just to hop on my ass about the danger of scissors?” you hissed, planting your hands on your hips. 

The man...Reyes, you reminded yourself, didn’t move however. He seemed firmly planted in where he was standing, not intending to move or respond. 

Who knew a man who consumed souls would be such a fucking baby? 

After a few moments of staring at each other you sighed, throwing your hands up in the air in defeat. “Fine, I’ll return the damn scissors!” you hissed, grumbling under your breath as you began to walk past Reyes to give the lady back her item. But as you walked by, his hand wrapped around your wrist, shocking you enough to drop the scissors. 

He pulled you back and near him, lifting up your sleeve and revealing your wrist to both his and your view. You looked at him with anger before seeing a familiar but new sight. It was a barcode tattooed onto your skin, and the hazy memories from last night returned. “Oh right, they did that,” you hummed, remembering the “marking” process that all soldiers underwent. You barely even had noticed the process, so intent on sleeping you had given little to no damns. 

But Reyes...Reyes gave a damn.

He gave a lot of damns.

Upon seeing it, his grip on your tightened to the point where you began to hiss, trying to pull away. The soft song emitted by his core turned dark, bleeding at the corners as it intensified in your ears. You winced, folding in on yourself as the energy nearby began to grow unbalanced, a threat to both Reyes and now you. 

But with this, he gave no damn. 

“What the fuck is that?” he growled, voice somehow calm despite the obvious emotions he felt. The energy that was bleeding began to drip into you, making your veins light up brilliantly. If Reyes cared, he didn’t show it. 

“Uh, my identification?” you bit out, starting to feel the hum peek out behind the song of Reyes’ core. It pulled for you instinctively, sensing the danger and fear you were feeling. Your fingers twitched at its soft aura, tingling with the questioning want and need to summon it. 

“You’re-”

“Officially a soldier,” you interrupted, looking up at him with wide, flabbergasted eyes. Why the hell did it matter so much? He was responsible for your fate, delivering you to Talon’s hands in the first place. You would never forget what he had done, even if he had shown some emotion towards you in your time knowing each other. 

He didn’t say anything for a while, and you snorted. “Really? You’re gonna get all pissy with me for becoming a soldier and not staying a prisoner?” you hissed, voice dripping with venom. He looked away, and your veins lit up brightly as you used the hum to shock his hands. He released you and you took a step back, rubbing at the aching skin. 

There were no words for a moment before you took a long step towards him, jutting your finger into his chest. That caught his attention, making the song sing louder in in front of the hum. But fuck the hum. You didn’t need it right now anyways. “You’re telling me you have the fucking audacity to get pissed at me for choosing my own fate instead of letting you control it? Not happy with the outcome? Well guess what….” Your voice was louder now, bouncing off of the walls of the bathroom. All chatter had died down, and you assumed many women had run. If you were someone else and was witnessing this, you would have run too. “You’re why I’m here, big boy. You killed all hope of me living a good, decent life. And now you think you have a say in who I become?” you said, voice growing louder and louder with each word. 

You stepped closer, getting in his face now. You could smell a hint of cologne, could see the eyes behind that damned mask. You could feel his energy bleeding into yours, making your fingers twitch sporadically.

You were so angry, 

“Well guess what?” you hissed, jabbing your finger into his chest. He didn’t even more under your force, instead just staring down at you. “You don’t have a goddamn  _ voice  _ in who I become. Not when you’re the reason why I’m here,  _ Reyes, _ ” you yelled, your volume damn near shattering your eardrum. The sound resembled your scream when you had died, and the light bulbs flickered. Some bulbs blew out, causing whatever ladies remained scream and curse. 

But that didn’t matter at first. Not when Reyes grabbed your wrists and shoved your body back with his own until you were pressed up against the wall. You hit your head on the metal, causing stars to flicker in your vision and the light in your veins to dim. “What the-”

Suddenly, the mask was off, tossed onto the bench besides you. You saw grey skin, pallor once a dark, hazelnut brown. But now it was paled with death, some scars new while some were old. And his eyes...they were no longer brown, but a bright red, matching his core at the moment. “Do not call me that name,” he growled, smoke beginning to drift into the steam from the showers. 

Fear was hot in your stomach as it got tangled with confusion. Your eyes widened, mouth opening for whatever words wanted to come out, but you were interrupted as he pressed his forehead against yours, grip turning loose and comforting. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, breath hot against your face. But you couldn’t find any words to say under his stare, which held more meaning than any voice could find right now. After all, you didn’t even think you could speak if you tried. Your thoughts were bouncing off of the boundaries of your mind, damn near going as fast as the hum through your veins. “I’m sorry,” he said once more, voice so defeated it made you bite your lip, lifting your chin. 

“I don’t know if I can forgive you,” you bit out, trying to swallow the tears in your eyes. It was true. How could you forgive the man who had ruined your life? Hell, how could you forgive him if you couldn’t even forgive yourself for all the mistakes you’d made in the past week? 

He didn’t look away. “I know you can’t,” he replied, voice so quiet you could barely hear it. Even though the conversation had turned somewhat friendly, his forehead was still pressed against yours. Looking into his eyes, the smell of blood and soap made tears begin to drip down your cheeks. The sight startled him and he pulled away but you tangled your fingers into the coarse curls of his hair, pulling him back.

“Make me forget,” you begged, words that made him jerk away in surprise and...disgust? You wondered what he was feeling as the bleeding of his core seemed to clot. You no longer felt his song, and your veins no longer glowed. But your eyes were bloodshot and your tongue was bleeding from how hard you were biting down on it. “Please,” you whispered. 

“Please, Reyes.”

The sound of his name made something snap in him as he wrapped his hands around your face, pulling you towards him so fast that you bit down even harder on your tongue. But the taste of his lips made you forget about the blood in your mouth as you gasped and breathed in a shaky breath at his touch. 

He pulled away for a moment at the sound of your gasp, as though asking for your permission. There was something different than the usual chaos and sorrow that swirled in the brown orbs of his eyes. It was bright, alive when he himself was dying. You stared at him for a few moments for nodding slightly, chewing on your lower lip. 

“Go ahead,” you whispered, and that was that, 

He snarled something animalistic, and it brought a soft laugh from your mouth before his lips interrupted it. Reyes’ hands wrapped around your face, pulling you towards him with such force your noses hit. It was awkward and clumsy, but goddamn, you were not complaining. 

You could feel your heart thundering in your ears, sounding as though it were the sad tune played by children on the way to war years ago. You felt like you were going to war too, abandoning all thought as you merely marched forward. The thought that maybe Reyes’ was the enemy in this war came to mind, but it squashed with every other one of its kinds as he moved his hands from your face to your hips, latching his fingers into the hem of your leggings. 

You pulled away at the feeling, your body and breath shaking. Your eyes were closed, something you didn’t notice, and when you slowly opened them to see Reyes’ looking at you like you were the only damn thing that mattered. It made blood rush to your face, and you felt the words that were on your lips stall under his gaze. “Uh...uh…” you trailed off, chewing your lips again in embarrassment. 

“Don’t do that,” he said, moving one hand from the hem of your pants to your lips. He rubbed at where you were chewing, a crease in his brow as he stared at your mouth. “You can stop armies with that mouth,” he said, and you knew he meant it in whatever way you wished to take it. 

“I thought you didn’t care,” you blurted out, regretting the words almost immediately. He flinched as though you had just spit at him, and you began to stutter out an apology. But he shook his head, moving his hands back to your face. 

“I-”

“You don’t want to admit it,” you said, and he nodded, casting his eyes to your feet in shame. You frowned. “Are you ashamed?” you asked, voice quiet as you felt small underneath him. 

Reyes shook his head with a snort, rubbing at the back of his neck. He took a small step back to give you some space, and you tried to ignore how you felt tempted to get his hands back on you. “It’s not that... “ he said. “Once I admit it, I can never take it back,” he told you and you crossed your arms, chewing your lip. Once he gave you a knowing look, however, you stopped. 

“What do you mean?” you asked. 

“I can’t bear seeing you become another one of their mindless toys,” he said, voice low. You didn’t understand, shifting uncomfortably. Did he mean like Widowmaker? He must’ve had telepathy as another power because he nodded. “Yes, like Amelie,” he said, and you laughed bitterly at the sound of her name. Now she felt more human…

“What makes you think I’ll become one of their toys?” you wondered, and he gestured towards your arm. He gingerly reached forward after a second though, tracing the barcode and serial number tattooed onto your wrist. But then he pulled your sleeve up past your elbow, rubbing at the drug’s injection site. And you understood. “Oh,” you said. 

“Yeah,” he said. 

You swallowed roughly, taking a step back. You felt suddenly awkward, feeling as though you had stepped over a boundary you could never retreat past. But the hands on your elbow caught your wrist, making you look up from your feet. “I don’t want you to become me,” he admitted, and you looked down to your veins, remembering very vividly what they looked like illuminated. 

“Oh,” you said. 

For a moment, neither one of you said anything. Instead, you merely stood in each other’s presence, listening to one another’s song. “I’m not dead though,” you pointed out, and for once he laughed, a small sound so broken and put together it confused you to no end. You looked at him in a new way, head to the side and eyes wide. And he looked at you, really looked at you. Here he stood as who he was, not as who he is. 

And here you stood as who you are, the remnants of who you were on the floor and sticking to your feet. 

“They’ll destroy you,” he finally said, looking at you from under the brow. “You already wish you were dead,” he pointed out and you looked down at your bare feet. 

“Not right now,” you whispered, and Reyes risked a step towards you at that, returning his fingers to the hem of your pants. But you put your hand over his, shaking your head. “No,” you said and he moved his hands up to your face, rubbing at the bags under your eyes. “Why me? You brought me here,” you blurted out, unable to help yourself. 

But he did not falter, moving his hands to your shoulders as though he were holding you together. Reyes look ashamed, and so angry. The fire returned to his eyes, the same fire you saw underneath his mask. But it didn’t scare you...not now. “I wanted the drugs,” he told you, and you swallowed, throat dry at the mention of the damn addictive substance they used against you, against everyone. “It’s the only reason why I stay here. Without it I…” 

“Without it?” you pushed, and he lifted up a hand. You watched it disappear into smoke that consumed him up to his elbow. And you understood. “Oh.”

“I disappear.” His arm reappeared. “And it dulls the pain.”

You snorted at that, nodding. “That it does,” you agreed, remembering it's effects. The memories made you shiver, goosebumps prickling to life on your arms. Reyes noticed, but did nothing to actively show it. 

“They’ll make you theirs, if they haven’t already. You’ll...you’ll become me,” he said. 

“Is that why you tried to help me?” you asked, remembering the water, the blankets, the towels... Small things, with big impacts.

“Look how good that turned out,” he muttered, rubbing at where you had tied the noose. You jerked away from him at the memory, and he retreated. You felt bad, but the memory was raw. It would always be raw. 

He looked down at you with such sadness that it made you chew your lip, a move that made him sigh and roll his eyes. He returned his hands to the side of your face and leaned in, pressing a slow, chaste kiss to your lips. You didn’t know what to do with your hands, so you reached up, tangling them in his hair. Reyes groaned, leaning into you. 

You pulled away, looking up with a deep breath. His hands wrapped around your waist, not pressuring you past your established limits. But he did press a soft kiss to where the noose had been tied around, and you looked down at him with wide, vulnerable eyes. 

Reyes looked back at you. 

There was a knock to your side, and you looked over to see Sombra with her hands on her hips, a shit eating grin on her face. Reyes didn’t turn to look at her, instead separating from you as fast as possible to retrieve his mask. Your face felt hot, and you blamed it on the steam, both literally and metaphorically. 

“Widow sent me to retrieve the newbie, although I see you were already on it, Reyes,” Sombra teased, words that made Reyes growl, turning with his mask back on. And with the mask came the persona; dark, angry and deadly. You wondered if what you had done was a mistake, chest heavy with the implications of their actions and what it meant. 

Did he want to fuck you? Or did he feel a connection to you, seeing himself when he was first recruited? You didn’t know his story, but clearly he wasn’t here by choice. He needed the drugs, a realization that made a lot more sense than it should.

Talon controlled their soldiers through the drugs, and now they were controlling you. 

Sombra looked from Reyes’ mask to you, winking at you before turning around. “Reyes, next time you want to profess your undying love don’t do it in the ladies bathroom,” Sombra called out before promptly walking out. “Oh, and querido, meet me outside when you’re ready. I’m to take you to training,” she said before disappearing. 

That left the two of you alone, and you cleared your throat before turning to walk back to your stuff. You stuffed your old clothes into a small bag, feeling embarrassed and ashamed. How could you do that? This man was why you were here, after all… And he turned you over to Widowmaker when you tried to kill yourself. And now he was kissing you? And you were  _ liking  _ it? 

Ashamed, you went to tuck some hair behind your ear only to feel nothing. Right...you cut your hair to be able to look at yourself, but after that, you couldn’t bare to see yourself. Swallowing a sob, you went to exit only to have a familiar grip catch your shoulder.

“Call me Gabe,” Reyes said, and you looked him from over your shoulder before nodding.

“Okay.. Goodbye..Gabe,” you said, walking out of the shower area.

The girl who had loaned you the scissors stopped you on your way out though, grabbing you with a gentle hand. She gave you a long look before leaning in. “So, how big is his dick? I bet 8, while Cindy bet 7,” she whispered, and you tried to ignore Sombra’s laugh as you walked out. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay wow um..did yall like it ?   
> COMMENT   
> what you thought! what do you think about reaper? does he have a motive, and why is he some involved with readers involvement with talon?   
> COMMENT  
> your thoughts! what do you think of my take on reaper? id love to hear your thoughts :)  
> LEAVE KUDOS!  
> more kudos = more fans :)  
> HAVE A GREAT DAY/NIGHT!!!  
> <3 <3 <3


	9. Silence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reader learns how to fight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay this chapter really isn't all that fun and stuff like the last one, but it is important for the future when it comes to how the reader can fight. it also makes the reader confront her own power, something that scares her a lot. and there is some bonding between reader and reaper ;))))  
> the next chapter will have more stuff between reader and reaper so look forward to that!!!  
> i hope u enjoy this :)  
> TRIGGER WARNINGS:  
> talks of suicide  
> talking of drugs

The walk towards the training grounds with Sombra was mostly silent besides her occasional words that informed you of your surroundings. Sometimes she caught your long gaze on the number of prison blocks the two of you passed, and would nudge you with a small smile turning up the corners of her lips. And sometimes, she would ask questions. 

“What was it like?” she asked, bold and fearless. You looked over at her with surprise, not expecting her to ask that question. You supposed that it was bound to be asked, especially now that you would be interacting with lots of people. Sombra seemed as though she was insanely curious as well, so you sucked down the sudden weight in your throat. 

“2016?” you asked, and she nodded, throwing her hands up in the air.

“Si! I’ve read so much about what life was like at the beginning of the century. But to meet someone from it…” she trailed off, and you didn’t need clarification. You understood. The elders during this time, the ones who grew up beside you, must have experienced plenty more interesting events from then to now. You, however, had not. One day you were in 2016, and the next you were in 2076. The most significant events happening before you ended up here were still all you knew. 

You wondered what catastrophic events had happened in the 60 years you were gone. Had any more terrorist attacks happened? What had happened to the U.S and the other countries?

_ What happened to my family?  _

The thoughts must have shined in your eyes because Sombra stopped in her tracks, giving you a long look you had seen on Reyes-Gabe’s face just a while ago. The thought of the man made your cheeks feel hot, but your stomach still churned with memories of what literally felt like a week ago. To these people, your “week ago” was their “six decades ago”. It bothered you to no end. 

“It was scary,” you said, moving your gaze to the large windows to your side. You turned and walked over to them, crossing your arms and thinning your lips. Memories of the protests you saw and read about, memories of all the articles of victims of war, memories of your own struggles which felt so small now were hot in your body, were burning you. You felt as though your very core was aflame, spreading from the depths of your chest out to the tips of your fingers. “There was so much...anger,” you hissed, chewing on your lip. 

You wondered what Gabe would do if he saw you. 

So you turned around, arms still folded and body still burning. Sombra was looking at you with unreadable eyes as you stared at her. The memories were strong, but words could never convey what you had felt...what you  _ still  _ felt. How could you convey an experience, a life? 

“People were divided. People were scared. So many people would rather slit their own wrists than go another day. Parents couldn’t provide for their children. People resorted to drugs to forget, to cope. And I…” You looked back out the window, looking at the snow gathering on the roofs of the buildings. There was a long hallway stretching in front of you beyond the window before connecting to another building. You knew it was the entrance to a prison block, and that made your fingers on your arms dig into your skin. Tears were rubbing at your throat and you sighed. 

“I tried to survive, but it feels nothing like now,” you said, voice barely above a whisper. There was no movement, no noise as you watched a guard enter the prison block. You briefly wondered if you could free all those people. No matter their crimes, they didn’t deserve what Talon had to offer. You assumed you were among the lucky few who didn’t have to remain in those cells. But the phantom feeling of the cold bed and the noose around your neck would follow you wherever you went. 

“Now?” Sombra asked, and you nodded, going to push your hair aside only to feel nothing. 

“Now I’m here,” you told her, and she hummed. With a sigh you shook your head and turned, shrugging. “Okay, enough angst, let’s get to training,” you dismissed and she nodded, understanding you didn’t want to talk about the subject anymore. 

The two of you continued to walk down the long hallway, and you cast one last look back at the disappearing prison block. You reached out for the hum, tapping your fingers on your thigh as you tried to find other people’s songs. But you were too far gone, and so you turned your gaze back towards where you were walking. 

 

The room Sombra took you to had a large locker room furnished with a number of lockers and a separate area for the showers and toilets. It seemed like you weren’t the only one reporting for training, and as you and Sombra entered the locker room you were hit with a face full of steam and a sight full of naked people in varying levels of nudity. 

A few men were slapping each other with towels, while some girls were complimenting each other’s bodies and clothing. The sight made your face turn bright red and you averted your eyes to your feet, earning a loud laugh and a clap on the back from Sombra. “Something for everyone!” she joked, winking at you. That got even more red in your face, making the woman throw her head back laughing.

A few fellow soldiers looked over at you, some with coldness and others with open friendship. One woman waved you over, and upon looking to Sombra for reassurance, the woman nodded you on. “I’ll meet you out on the training grounds,” she told you before disappearing. You chewed your lip and turned to walk over to the woman. 

Another woman was standing beside her, although she was much shorter. “Hey there! You’re (Y/N), right?” the taller woman said, not even showing any hint of caring she was only clad in a sports bra and standard issued leggings. 

You nodded, and the taller woman looked to the shorter woman with a grin on her face. The shorter woman rolled her eyes and sighed, closing her locker with the shake of her head. “Ignore Lesedi here. She has a crush on you,” the shorter girl teased, elbowing Lesedi in the side. 

Lesedi visibly blanched, and looked at you with wide eyes. You couldn’t help the large grin that came to your face at the look on her face as she frantically tried to assure you that she did not, in fact, have a crush on you. The shorter girl was loving it though, sporting a smirk on her face. 

“I don’t! I swear! We’ve just heard about you and think you’re really cool!” Lesedi told you and you crossed your arms, growing interested now. The girls in the bathroom knew about you too. You didn’t think you were all that incredible. After all, you had been just another prisoner. 

“Really? What have you heard about me?” you asked, and Lesedi seemed relieved at the change in subject. She smiled brightly, pulling on a Talon tank top before continuing. 

“I remember a few days ago, we were in the middle of class with Reaper and Widowmaker. They were making us run laps, when an alarm went off. Widowmaker-”

“Widowbitch,” the smaller girl chimed in, and Lesedi hushed her. You couldn’t help but smile and snort. 

“Like, put her hand to her ear and started saying stuff in French. She like told Reaper something and oh man…” Lesedi whistled with wide eyes. 

“I haven’t seen him so mad,” the shorter girl mused, and Lesedi nodded quickly in agreement. Their words interested you greatly. You had though your suicide attempt had been confined only to your prison block, not the entire HQ. 

“Yeah! He like turned into a ghost, or some shit. It was crazy.” Lesedi paused. “We got out of exercise. It made my day,” she giggled, and the shorter girl rolled her eyes, turning and walking towards where you assumed were the training grounds.

You wondered why Widowmaker and...Reaper? How many damn names did the man have… You wondered why Widowmaker and Reaper had been so bothered, but especially thought about why Reaper had been so angry. Did he really care about you that much? 

You subconsciously rubbed at where the noose had been tied, but Lesedi didn’t notice as a loud whistle was blown. You jerked back to reality, abandoning your thoughts at the noise. Lesedi groaned, making her hand into the form of a gun and shooting herself in the head. A giggle came out of your throat at her reaction. “Time for hell...er, training,” she groaned, throwing her head back as she turned and walked away. 

You followed her. You expected the soldiers here to be assholes, or to snort cocaine off of each other’s boobs while talking about how many prisoners you killed or raped that day. But Lesedi and her friend seemed...okay. It felt weird to meet normal people after the past week.

Maybe they were normal because they were only in training, and not actually exposed to the horrors Talon had to offer. You briefly wondered what knowledge was granted to the initiates as they applied to work here. Were they told Talon was great, or did they know its intentions? You assumed not, otherwise Talon would have been shut down. 

Shaking your head, you followed Lesedi out two black doors. The training grounds made you stop and gape for a few moments. 

There was a large, open area with mats on the ground where you assumed sparring and hand to hand combat would be taught. Beyond this area in front of you, there was what you assumed was a “map” used to test abilities used on the field. There were spiraling staircases and large buildings. It made you stop and stare for a moment until you realized you were the only one not by the mats. Blushing you rushed forward, wringing your fingers. 

Looking at these people, you felt nervous and anxious. They had experience with combat, while the only thing you knew how to do was summon the hum. From then on, you were winging it. The realization made you feel small and as though you didn’t belong. 

Standing in the back, you listened and watched to roughly 30 people talk and play around with one another. But not you… You stood tucked away from the crowd. Even though Lesedi and her friend seemed welcoming, they had disappeared as you had lost yourself in ogling at the grounds. After all, the people here were used to this kind of stuff. You were still adapting, and you assumed you would always be. 

There was another loud whistle, and everyone snapped to attention, dropping conversations within the blink of an eye. The sudden change made the anxiety in you tighten, and the hum peeked out at what you were feeling. The sudden flow of energy through your fingertips made you relax until you saw Widowmaker and Reaper step onto the grounds and walk in front of the group. 

You paled looking at the two of them, suddenly at a loss as to why they would be teaching this group. They seemed a lot more important than instructing soldiers, unless…

Were these elite soldiers? 

The thought made you damn near shrink back into yourself. Why would Widowmaker assign you to these people? Would you be working besides them? 

The thoughts didn’t help you, and the sudden words from Widowmaker were a welcome distraction from yourself. 

“Good morning recruits, today we welcome a new member of the ‘Recall’ squadron. Please, welcome (Y/N),” Widowmaker said. She seemed so out of place in front of all the members of the squadron, all tight and controlled. You watched her with fascination until she gestured towards you in the back.

You felt your face heat up as everyone turned and looked back at you. You obviously stood out, as you were a few feet away from the person in the back. Chewing your lips, you looked down at your feet, not saying anything. Once you felt everyone’s eyes move from you to Widowmaker, you looked back up. But you still felt a pair of eyes on you, and you heard a familiar song reaching for the hum.

Your eyes traveled to the source of the song, and you found yourself looking back at Reaper. Looking at each other, his song grew louder and brighter, while your veins subconsciously glowed. The light from your body made you jerk back, moving your eyes from his to Widowmaker. 

Of course your marks had to respond to the emotions you felt…

The awkwardness that was Widowmaker teaching the entire squadron was quickly solved as Sombra abruptly appeared next to the blue woman. Her sudden appearance out of literally nowhere made some people curse, but it made you confused. How could she do that? Sombra of course enjoyed the reactions and chuckled before patting Widowmaker on the back. The woman didn’t like that, and it showed on her face. “Hola reclutas! Today we’ll be learning self defense! Pick your partners and choose a mat! Us three will be giving tips!” she told you all, and everyone looked for their friends before walking over to a mat. 

You, however, stood there, awkwardly chewing your lip. Lesedi chose her shorter friend, and no one else seemed interested in you. There was no one else left to be your partner, and you briefly wondered why Widow had assigned you to this squadron when it had an equal number of recruits in the first place. 

You looked around helplessly until Sombra materialized out of thin air next to you. Her sudden appearance made you jump and instinctively pull the hum tighter into you, making your veins glow a dim, white light. If she noticed, she didn’t show it as she wrapped an arm around you, leading you to a mat. “Couldn’t leave you just standing there lookin like a sad puppy,” she said, and you blushed, crossing your arms across your chest with a pout on your face. 

“I don’t look like a sad puppy,” you huffed, and Sombra giggled, patting you on the back before letting you go. She stood on the other end of the mat, getting into a fighting posture. You had no idea how to fight without the hum, and so you merely replicated her stance, unsure as to what the hell you were doing. 

What you did not expect were sudden hands on your waist, wrapping around you. You jumped with a cry, spinning around to push away whoever was behind you. But the hands held you steady, and you heard a familiar song in your ears. It would be impossible to not blush with his grip on your body. Memories of what his lips felt like only made you tense, and his fingers tightened around you. You wondered if everyone else could see what was being exchanged, or if they merely saw him as a teacher. 

“Your posture is wrong,” he said, voice gruff in your ear. You tried to ignore how you shivered, and prayed that Gabe hadn’t noticed. But if the man was anything, it was observant, and his thumb rubbed a small circle into your skin. What an asshole. “You’ll be on the ground within moments if you stand like this,” he said, implications perfectly clear. 

His hands abruptly began to move you into a different position, and you followed perfectly. “Stand on the side, ready to dodge and counter,” he told you, and you nodded. Gabe’s hands were gone as soon as they were upon you, and you took a deep breath, trying to prepare yourself for combat. 

The hum latched onto you at the feeling of anxiety, trying to comfort you. Your veins glowed ever so slightly with your fear, and the sound of a whistle made Sombra jump into movement. She leapt towards you, a move that made you step back instinctively and break form. She smirked at the move on your part, and went for a jab at your chest. You stepped to the side to avoid it, putting all weight on one leg. Seeing this, she dropped and kicked at your knee, sending you sprawling onto your back.

You groaned at the sudden lack of breath, squeezing your eyes shut. The hum was bounced out of your body with the impact of your body hitting the mat, but it was coursing back into your veins. Blinking open your eyes, you saw Sombra’s amused expression and Reaper’s mask. You grinned sheepishly and Reaper shook his head with a loud sigh as he disappeared, Sombra throwing her head back with a loud laugh. Holding back a number of curses in your throat, you huffed your short hair out of your face and got to your feet, rubbing at your back. 

Sombra swayed her hips with playful steps, tossing a look over her shoulder. The hum intensified under your skin, and you could hear Reaper’s song grow a little bit louder at the brightening of your veins. You narrowed your eyes. You didn’t hate Sombra...far from it, really. She seemed nice and funny, but you could tell you were being watched by all your fellow recruits. If they saw you as weak, then what?

Chewing your lip, you got back into the position Reaper had taught you. Maybe this time you could avoid Sombra’s attacks, and counter. You’d always expected hand to hand combat to be easy. Watching it on TV made it seem like it, so maybe you just had to try and replicate what you remembered from all those Netflix shows you’d watched.

A whistle was blown again and Sombra leapt towards you, quick with practice and composed fury. You frowned, instinctively taking a step back. But this time, you made sure to keep all weight on both feet rather than one. Sombra looked beautiful fighting, and it took your breath watching her eyes narrow and her tongue dart out between her teeth. Her own hum was beautiful as well, lacing itself between the fibers of her skin and flickering in her eyes. 

You briefly lost yourself in her hum until you felt her hit your right arm, making you drop it from the air. Seeing the opportunity, she jabbed you in your right side. You cried out, stepping back. She went for a kick to your exposed side, but you managed to jump back and dodge. Grinning with happiness at your dodge, she stopped for a moment to nod at you, acknowledging the small but monumental move you’d made. 

“Get ready,” she said, and you nodded, getting back into position. Sombra wiped her arm on her forehead, letting out a long exhale of the breath she’d been holding. “React quickly,” she said, and she damn near spun. She launched a flurry of jabs at you, and you found yourself only able to deflect a few until she was landing them all on your body. You hissed and collapsed onto your butt, huffing angrily. 

“You did good.” a familiar voice said behind you, and you looked up at Reaper, who crossed his arms while looking at you. You nodded, unsure of how to respond. Chewing on your lips, you grabbed the hand Sombra offered and bounced back onto your feet. This wasn’t working… By the time you grew decent at hand to hand, your reputation would be ruined. You didn’t have the time and experience these people had. 

You needed to do something. 

You looked to Reaper, who did nothing. You could feel his eyes on you, tracing every little move you made. You briefly entertained the thought that he kept the mask just so people couldn’t see what he was feeling, where he was looking. But you could feel his eyes on you. It felt hot, burning away at the layers of skin protecting your body from the dangers of the world. It felt like a disease, but one you didn’t mind keeping. 

Swallowing, you turned back to look at Sombra, who was getting back into position. Maybe...maybe you could do something with your powers. After all, the world was cruel and unforgiving. Fights would not be won without dirt, a fact you’d learn the hard way. Taking a long, deep breath, you got back into position. 

As far as you knew, you could use your powers to kill people by crushing their core, or by shocking them, as learned from Reaper. Back when Reaper attacked at the hospital, you’d also done something… You’d moved back to where you’d been, finding remnants of your hum left behind as you moved onward. You wondered if this meant you could go back in time without actually bending time itself… Chewing your lips, you clenched your hand.

Sombra came at you before the whistle, high off of the power that came with winning. She sent a high kick to your head, and you dropped low. She predicted this, however, as she spun around and delivered a kick to your face. There was a crack in your face, and you hit your head on the ground, sending the hum flying. Black stars were dancing in your vision as there was a loud ringing in your head, eyes bleary. You briefly heard voices, and saw Reaper’s mask come into view. 

His hands were on your shoulder, and you looked at him in confusion before reaching up and touching your aching nose. Pulling your hand away, you saw blood on your skin. 

And the hum came rushing back. 

You looked at Sombra, who didn’t seemed concerned in the least. To her, this must have been how she was trained, how she was brought up here. She didn’t care about the consequences as long as she got what she wanted. Or maybe this was how she taught you. 

Either way, you stretched your hand, allowing the hum to course through your veins like ice. It was burning you from the inside out as you traced a circle with your right index finger, pinpointing where certain hums had been recently. You found Sombra’s own source of energy, and traced it to when she had been waiting to attack. 

With a breath, you clenched your hand. 

And suddenly, you were no longer in Reaper’s grasp, lying on the floor with blood dripping down your face. You were on the other side of the map, in the position Sombra had held at the time. Her energy was addictive as it scratched at your arteries, feeling like drug. 

You didn’t even notice Reaper jerking to his feet, looking for you before seeing you behind Sombra. What you noticed was how sweaty Sombra’s neck was as you jumped onto her, wrapping your arms around her head as you pulled her down on the ground. Your back hit the ground, but it was a feeling you’d grown accustomed to. Sombra gagged, clawing at your illuminated arms in a feeble attempt to get you off of her.

You should have let up, but you didn’t. Adrenaline was underneath the lights within you, making time slow around you without the use of your powers. Your nose was aching, and you tasted blood in your mouth.

But you didn’t care. 

Arms suddenly wrapped underneath your armpits, and tore you off of Sombra. The woman gasped and began to cough, and you let out a breath you didn’t even know you were holding. You were being pulled away from the woman, as though the owner of the arms were expecting you to viciously murder her. 

But you didn’t.

“I’m alright… I’m alright!” you hissed, turning around to see Reaper. The man radiated worry, and his song was reaching for your hum. But you rejected his grasp for your own power, shoving his arms off of you as you huffed, getting to your feet. “I’m not gonna kill her,” you grumbled, wiping the blood on your face off with your sleeve. 

Looking up from Sombra, you saw everyone staring at you. Everyone had stopped what they were doing to watch what just happened unfold, and it made you suddenly feel very, very wrong. Your stomach twisted and turned as you stood there, nose possibly broken and veins bright and white. Your breath caught in your throat as you felt all the eyes on you, even catching Widowmaker staring at you with the corners of her lips turned up. 

Swallowing, you looked down to Sombra who was getting to her feet. She seemed to be off balanced, but besides that, she looked fine. In fact, she looked as though nothing had just happened. Your eyebrows furrowed and your lips turned down, not quite understanding. No anger radiated from her, and her hum seemed more...powerful? It was thrumming, something it shouldn’t be doing after being attacked and used. 

Sombra looked at you with bright eyes, a smirk on her face. You didn’t understand, not even when she laughed and walked towards you, clapping a hand on your back. You damn near just killed her...what the fuck? “Good job, (Y/N). Damn good job,” she said, and you looked back at Reaper in disbelief. The man wasn’t moving, simply standing there with his arms crossed. 

What...what the fuck? 

“Get some rest...you earned it,” she said before turning and walking away. The recruits seemed to understand that whatever had just transpired had ended, and continued sparring. You, however, merely stood there, blood dripping off of your chin and veins shining brilliantly. You jumped when you felt Reaper’s hand on your shoulder, making him chuckle. 

“What…” you said, trailing off. 

“That’s Sombra… She’ll drive you insane, and forgive you in the end like it meant nothing,” he told you and you looked at him with a look that made him nod, almost to himself. 

You sighed, going to wipe away blood only to bump your nose. It stung awfully, and you winced, scrunching up your face in pain. Reaper heard the noise and sighed, pulling away your hands from your face. “Come on...let’s get that patched up,” he said, dropping your hands only to walk towards the locker room.

You assumed that meant you were dismissed from the rest of training and followed after him, leaving with more questions than answers. 

 

You followed Reaper into the locker room only to be brought to a tucked away room with a first aid kit and a small bench. Once you realized the two of you would be alone, you hesitated, standing outside of the doorway into the small room. Reaper, however, didn’t seem to notice as he sat on the bench and pulled out the first aid kit, opening it. Subconsciously, you chewed your lip, feeling the hum reach towards your anxiety and fear. 

Would Reaper be disgusted with you? You were disgusted with yourself, startled by your animosity and violence towards Sombra. Sure, the girl had purposefully pissed you off in hopes of getting you to reach your full potential, but that didn’t excuse you choking her, damn near killing her. You looked away from Reaper, back down to your feet. 

You’d enjoyed the rush of adrenaline in your body, making your body look godly, angelic. You’d enjoyed the sudden transportation of your body from one point in time to another, the way that you felt Sombra’s throat tighten under your hold. You’d enjoyed the way her fingers had itched away at your skin, blood dripping onto her hair and it coating your teeth.

You’d enjoyed it. 

You rubbed at where the noose had been. 

“(Y/N),” a gruff voice said, jarring you out of your thoughts. You jerked your head up from looking down at your feet, instead turning your sights towards Reaper. He was watching you with curiosity, eyes burning like the gunpowder on your tongue one week ago.  “Sit down so I can treat your nose,” he said, and you bit on your tongue, crossing your arms as you took a seat next to the man. 

The bench was small, and your shoulders were rubbing against each other. The air was hot around you, filled with the songs of Reaper’s core as it wrapped around your hum, holding it tight. You wondered if he was aware how he held back your powers, keeping your body dull and boring. 

Your thoughts were cut off as his fingers, now void of his gloves, were abruptly under your chin, angling your head towards him. You jumped back at the sudden contact, a move that made him pull back, afraid of his own influence. Guilt was cold in your body, calming the heat Reaper stirred in your gut. “S-sorry,” you said, scooting back towards him. 

Your apology was accepted as he grunted, returning his hands to your face. You tried to avoid looking at him, not wanting to see those brown eyes behind his mask. Memories of the bathroom earlier were still fresh like an open wound, and he was merely rubbing salt in the gash with his touch. 

“You keep chewing your lip,” he said, and you looked up at him with surprise, mouth open. Your hand reached up and rubbed at your lower lip, not even realizing you were doing it now. “Not now, but earlier,” he corrected and you hummed, shrugging. You went to tuck a piece of hair behind your ear, but there was nothing there. 

“Sorry,” you said, and Reaper sighed, pulling back the cloth he was using to dab at the blood on your face. You looked at him with confusion, wondering if you did or said something wrong. 

“Don’t be sorry,” he told you, and you opened your mouth to apologize only to be interrupted again. “You did good out there.”

You scoffed, suddenly bitter. “I damn near killed Sombra,” you hissed and Reaper shook his head with a sigh. You wondered what his expression was. 

“And in a battle, they won’t hesitate to kill you,” he reminded you, and you looked away, still not pleased with his words. You wouldn’t forget this, wouldn’t forgive yourself. Your life wasn’t threatened on that mat, but you threatened Sombra’s life. 

“I’m a monster,” you whispered, and fingers wrapped around your chin, yanking your face back towards Reaper. A small noise came from you until fingers were rubbing circles at the corners of your eyes, a mask staring back at you. 

“Don’t say that,” he said, and you looked down. “Don’t.”

“It’s true though,” you insisted and Reaper growled, a soft thud following the noise. That made you look up only to see him pulling off his mask, revealing his scarred face. But it didn’t scare you...he didn’t scare you. His eyes were still brown, his hair still curly and his lips a familiar shape. He was not monster...he was sick, addicted to staying alive, as any human would be. But you...you were addicted to trying to die. 

His hands cupped your face, pulling you closer to him with a snarl on his face. “You see this? This is what a monster is,” he growled. But you only saw a man who lost everything only to be rebuilt to lose more. You held his eyes. “What do you see?” he snarled. 

“I see a man,” you murmured, words that made Reaper...no, Gabe jerk away. But you held his eyes, not afraid of your beliefs when it came to him. You couldn’t possibly forgive him for bringing you here, for killing Lucy, but you understood. That’s what infuriated you… You understand why, you understand how, but the pain lingered in the shadows at night, the songs from cores broken beyond repair. 

It infuriated you that the one who ruined your life was a man, and you were the monster. 

“And I see a woman,” he said, and you looked away now, only to have his hands return to your face, and rub at the bags under your eyes. “I see a sad, scared woman who doesn’t understand her own strength, and the impact she has on the world around her,” he murmured, and you couldn’t help the twitch in your lips. He noticed, moving his hands to where the noose had been tied. You flinched. He pulled back. “Why did you do it?” he finally asked. 

You looked at him. “Why did you stop me?” you asked. 

And then it was silent. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if you enjoyed this, PLEASE LEAVE A COMMENT!  
> comments make writer's days and the last chapter's comments made me soooo happy that when i was writing this and i wanted to stop i'd think back to how yall enjoyed the story so much <3  
> LEAVE KUDOS!  
> kudos get this story featured and noticed!  
> AND HAVE A GREAT DAY!!!  
> <3 <3 <3


	10. Apology

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Would you give up the man?   
> No.   
> Would you give up the drugs?   
> No.   
> Would you give up your life?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i uploaded this chapter last night, but i wasn't pleased with it. i was doubting it a lot, as i often find myself doing with this story lately. it's my biggest fear to disappoint you readers, as this story is for you as much as it is for me. so when i wrote this chapter, i took in account my fears and many of the fears people have today. i don't want fanservice in this story, as i want this story to mean something. i want this story to be a story, not just a fanfiction. and im not bashing on anything or anyone, trust me. it's just my personal goal for this story.   
> i want this story to put us into the world of overwatch, which is both unforgiving and forgiving. overwatch is a lot like our current world; divided and scary, but there's still hope. right now in the story, things seem hopeless, but its my goal to show that there can be recovery, there can be happiness and there can be love.   
> and that's what this chapter is.   
> this chapter shows a lot of how i see reaper, and i see him as a man forced to do terrible things. and that's okay if you don't agree with it...we don't know a lot about Gabriel Reyes or Reaper. all we know is what we've been given, so a lot of characters are up for debate and stuff. but i see him as someone who has to do what he can to survive, to live.   
> enough of my babbling...i just hope you guys are enjoying this story.   
> TRIGGER WARNINGS:  
> talks of suicide, self harm and drugs   
> some content may seem sexual, but it's all intended to be intimate and loving 
> 
> ENJOY~

You awoke with a jerk, a scream caught in your throat with your bedsheets caught around your legs. Sweat was dripping down your arms, staining your white tank top and clinging to your hair as you breathed loudly, wheezing. 

Lucy’s eyes stared back at you, blank with death and holding tears to never be shed. So did your friend’s, asking you “why” you got to live, asking “why” you were so ungrateful for life when it was stolen right out from underneath them. And your own eyes stared back, wondering why the noose didn’t work, why you couldn’t squeeze the trigger in time. 

You swallowed, dropping your head head into your hands with a shaky breath. Pulling your legs up to your chest, you fell in on yourself, trying to minimize the damage you inflicted upon your own body and mind.

Sleep hadn’t been your friend for a long time, often times lacing itself around you fingers only to slip away right as you grabbed at it. The few times it finally embraced you it was full of your mistakes, your failures and your disappointments. 

And now it had new material to work with: death. 

You swallowed your tears, rubbing at your eyes with your thumbs, faintly remembering Gabe’s touch from the day before. You yearned for someone to hold you at that moment, to rub circles into your back and reassure you that yes, it would be okay. That yes, it hurts now but give it time and it gets better. But your room was empty, only filled by a bed, a dresser and the hum.

The latter was reaching out to you now, pressing its touch along the lines of your skin and weaving itself into the steady beat of your heart. Your veins were glowing at its touch, leaning into it like Justice would when you pet right behind her ears. The thought of your pup only made you tighten your grip around your knees, burrowing your head into your legs. 

The hum reacted to your anxiety, to your white hot depression pulling you back down to the floor with a rope around your neck. It wrapped itself around you, the soft song it sung echoing your ears. Warmth spread itself from your chest out, your veins slowly turning a radiant white. 

You retreated from your legs, sniffling and rubbing at your nose. While you could feel your veins becoming a brilliant display of your powers, you didn’t expect to see your body so bright. You extended your arms in front of you, looking at them in disbelief and wonder. The hum seemed to notice your amazement, and your veins flickered in acknowledgement, reassuring you that you were important, that you were powerful. 

Another sniffle, another rub at your nose, and now, a smile. Chewing your lip, you rubbed your hands along your arms in a silent “thank you” as you got to your feet. The cold tile shocked you, but you shook your head with a sigh, picking up your uniform for training before opening your door.

What you didn’t expect to see however was Reaper standing outside, hand raised and ready to knock. You flinched in surprise, clearly not expecting to see the man before training. You assumed that he wouldn’t actively seek you out since he had no need to, seeing you at training every day. You’d assumed that was enough, but clearly you were wrong.

Why’d he want to see  _ you  _ though?

You visibly blushed underneath his gaze, opening your mouth to apologize for damn near running into him. 

“Sorry-” you began.

“Sorry-” he began. 

You both stopped, waiting for the other to continue. But neither of you finished your sentence, and you couldn’t help the small smile that broke on your face at how ridiculous the two of you were. He was supposed to be an intimidating, vicious monster, and you were supposed to be an unstable, self destructive monster but instead, you were both bumbling idiots who had no idea what they were doing and were trying to survive. 

Reaper cleared his throat, and you looked down at your feet, trying to hide the smile on your face at how awkward he was. You knew you weren’t one to judge however, being the queen of awkwardness after all. “Good morning,” he said, gruff voice sounding strange with such a polite, formal sentence. 

“Hey,” you replied, looking back up at him. He was just standing there, not asking or saying anything. You furrowed your eyebrows, crossing your arms across your chest. His eyes flit down to your movement and you quickly remembered what you were wearing, and felt your face become hot with embarrassment. Awkwardly, you cleared your throat again. “Uh…”

“You’ve got a new uniform,” he said, suddenly jutting something white towards you. Your eyes widened, slowly taking the uniform from his hands. You tried to ignore how the hum and song melted together at the sudden and brief touch of your hands, but it was hard when it made your veins glow white. It didn’t take a genius to assume Reaper was smirking underneath his mask at the slight glow, but you decided to ignore him. “Exclusively made,” he pointed out and you looked at him from under your brows, somewhat surprised. 

A few days ago, Talon was torturing you, driving you to suicide. But now they were making a uniform just for you… 

“I’m surprised there’s no black,” you teased, gesturing towards Reaper’s outfit. The man crossed his arms, and you smiled at his attempt to look tough. You unfolded the uniform, revealing a strange looking outfit. Your eyebrows furrowed and your lips thinned as you examined it. “Awfully short, isn’t it?” you sighed. 

“Is that a problem?” he asked you and you gave him a long, pointed look before folding it back up. 

“What if I have to go somewhere cold?” you asked and he shrugged. 

“How the hell do I know? My specialities are-”

“Being a grumpy, old, emo man,” you finished and he grumbled under his breath, and you couldn’t help the giggle that came out of your throat. At the noise, however, the man seemed to visibly soften, and you could feel his eyes on you. 

In all honesty, you didn’t understand why you let this man fluster you, make you  _ giggle.  _ Roughly four days ago, you were hanging from the window in your cell, face purple and fingers limp at your side. Four days ago, you contemplated smashing a glass against the wall and to dig it into your veins, slicing them until the vibrant glow of the hum leaked onto your floor. Four days ago, you were dead. 

And now here you were...giggling, for Christ’s sake. 

The thought that you friends didn’t get this made your smile slowly disappear though, the corners of your lips turning from up to down. Reaper noticed, shifting in his stance but you were looking back down to your new uniform, trying to avert his attention. It didn’t work, and you knew it, but you didn’t care. “Uh...I guess I should try this on then,” you muttered, turning and shutting your door behind you.

You didn’t really care about shutting the door in his face. Reaper wasn’t one to take that stuff personally, you thought. He’d just continue on and get ready to practice and go do whatever an emo, constantly dying man did. He didn’t care anyways, probably. He probably just wanted a quick fuck from you...that’s what villains who ruined a girl’s life for drugs did anyways. 

But you didn’t believe in that thought, and that’s what bothered you. After finding you in that vent, he had been...kind to you, in his own way. He had cared for you when going through withdrawals, stopped you from killing yourself and stopped you from “cutting yourself” with scissors. 

You walked over to your bed, setting the uniform onto the mattress. With a huff, you reached down to take your tank top off only to hear a throat being cleared. You leapt around with a screech, damn near tripping over your bed’s frame. There, leaning against your closed door, was Reaper, arms folded and radiating smugness. “Damn, chica, if I knew you were that interested in me I wouldn’t have held back yesterday,” he chuckled, and you could feel your face turn red as you stood there. You frowned, crossing your own arms and jutting out your hip. What the fuck?

“What are you doing in my room?” you hissed, and he kicked off of the door, walking towards you. Smoke was slowly billowing off of his form, but for once, it didn’t scare you. His reasons for being in the room scared you more than anything, or your own intentions with the fake privacy you’d believed in a moment ago. 

Reaper stopped in front of you, and you hated how you had to turn your head up to look at him. It made you feel small, weak...but you knew you were anything but. So you stood there, lips turned down and hands clenched. 

“You’re depressed,” he said, and you rolled your eyes, trying to hide your surprise. No shit you were depressed. A few days ago you killed yourself. Being depressed after all you’d been put through was sort of a given. But you couldn’t help your surprise that he had noticed and spoken out, but that didn’t explain why he was in your room when you were trying to change. 

“Okay...but wanna tell me why you’re in my room?” you asked.

He looked around, almost in an awkward and embarrassed manner. That intrigued you further, and you raised your eyebrows, egging him on. Finally, Reaper sighed. “I don’t want a repeat of a few days ago,” he said, and you bit your lip at the mention of your suicide attempt. After the conversation you two shared the day before, it hadn’t been brought up, and even then, it was vague. You understood he was trying to understand why you wanted to die, and that he was trying to protect you in his own, weird ways. But his reasons for damn near watching you change made you stop and look at him…

But you didn’t just look at him. It was more than a look. You  _ really  _ looked at him, tilting your head to the side with a slight furrow in your brow. Your lips turned downwards, teeth prodding at your lower lip. The hum began to flow between your fingers, and you sent it to swirl around with the song of Reaper’s core, trying to examine his thoughts and emotions. 

He was all dark shadows and bags under eyes, the way that he cracked his knuckles before the bomb went off and how he cracked his neck now, a permanent kink lodged under his skin. He was the needle of the syringe, a sharp sting and then relief found in the comfort that reality was dripping right between your fingers. He was the first breath you took when you woke up from the embrace of the universe, seeing colors not visible to him and hearing sounds not audible to him. He was the high, and the coming down. 

He was Gabriel Reyes; a man with dirty hands but clean arms. Gabriel Reyes; a man who insisted on getting up at 6 am only to crawl out of bed at 7, insisting he would get up on time the next morning. Gabriel Reyes; a man split in two with plenty of tape trying to tie them together only to be cut around the sharp edges of the world. 

Gabriel Reyes; a human restrained by the limits of being a monstrosity. 

You nodded, swallowing roughly. The hum retreated into your veins, murmuring soft imitations of the song Reaper’s core sang. “Okay...could you stand in the corner with your back to me though?” you said, and he nodded, clearly expecting a fight. What he didn’t know, however, was that the hum had already won.

“You’re not going to-”

“No,” you interrupted, a bit too harshly. You felt bad, opening your mouth for an apology but Reaper was already nodding, turning to walk to the corner. You laughed internally at how dejected he looked, appearing as though he were a child. It brought a small, soft smile to your face before you cleared your throat, turning and taking your shirt off. 

It felt weird to have Reaper in the room as you were changing. It left you to feel vulnerable, goosebumps littering your skin. You shivered, a noise too loud. Your face felt hot at the noise, and you risked a glance back at the man to see if he was looking or noticed. You swore you saw his head bob, but decided that he was probably scratching his head or something. 

With a sigh, you tossed your tank top onto the your bed, being thankful for not wearing the sweaty shirt. Laundry was thankfully quick around here, so you’d have it back by tonight. It was one of the many perks of not being a prisoner who was tortured every day. You shrugged your shorts off and down your knees, kicking them to the corner of your room. 

You heard a cough, and turned around to see Reaper turned his head at the last second. Heat immediately burned your face at the realization he was watching and sneaking peeks, and you frowned, embarrassment hot in your chest. No one had ever seen you undressed, not like this, anyways. Sure, girls in the locker room at school may have seen you once or twice but they didn’t do it for any other reason other than to notice you walking by or chiming in on the conversation. 

The sudden realization that he had seen your half nude body made your breath catch in your throat, a sudden lump obstructing your breath. The hum reached out for you at the sudden increase in your heartbeat, the sudden sweat on your hands, the sudden gasp from your mouth. You immediately looked down to your feet in shame, unsure of what to do as you clutched your new uniform to your chest, feebly trying to hide your breasts. But that wasn’t what you were ashamed of...you were ashamed of your flaws, of those few areas you didn’t like, the few places you would do anything to change. 

With a deep breath, you swallowed your insecurities, trying to swallow the ashamed tears in the back of your eyes. It was silly to get upset over this with everything you’d been through… You’d survived two shootings, a suicide...you could survive this. You could survive someone looking at your body… But that wasn’t what really made you upset. What really made you upset was Gabe saw your body, something that you felt would turn him away. He was only here to fuck you, right? And seeing you as you were...he wouldn’t want to fuck that, right?

But his song spoke of more than that...much more than that. And it made you throw your shirt back on, trying to ignore how your veins glowed. It made you pull your shorts up, tripping over the fabric with the hum loud in your ears and swelling in your throat.

Biting your lip, you spun around, a noise that made Gabe look at you. “Get out,” you whispered, voice betraying you by cracking at the end of your sentence. You could feel his confusion as he turned to face you now, and you swallowed the tears that threatened to spill, clenching your hand into a fist at your side. “Get out, Gabe.” His name made your lips feel swollen, your cheeks puffy, your eyes red. 

“Chica-” he started but you pointed to the door, lifting your head up high. 

“Out.”

“(Name)-”

“OUT!” you yelled, squinting your eyes with the volume of your voice in fear of seeing him. “Get out!” you yelled again, eyes still closed. You couldn’t look at him, even if you couldn’t see his voice. You were humiliated, trust abused. He looked at you...seeing what you couldn’t even bear to see yourself. There were new scars on your skin, new flaws that only added to your long list of insecurities. 

You felt the air change with his movements, but you didn’t hear the door creak open. No...you heard steps getting closer, and then hands on your shoulders. With the bite of your lip, you opened your eyes to see Gabe in front of you, face skillfully hidden behind his mask. With the furrow of your eyebrow, you went to push him away but your wrists were gently grabbed. “You’re such a fucking asshole,” you hissed. 

“I shouldn’t have done that,” he said, and you looked at him...long and hard with all the shame and anger you had in your broken, tired body. Things were fine...why did you have to make a big deal? He just wanted to fuck you… You were in Talon. What did you expect? 

You were so dumb. 

But then he let go of a wrist, using his free hand to take of his mask. You were greeted with his broken, scarred face, a sight that made the fight in you loosen up oh so slightly. He looked so naked without his mask, nude and bare for your eyes to see. You could see the way his eyes shifted, the way his lips thinned, the way his eyebrows furrowed. And you could see the constant decay underneath his skin, drifting away in the tendrils of constant smoke, the purple and blue and black of his dead face.

He looked sorry, and confused. 

“I shouldn’t have abused your trust,” he said, and you raised your head higher. Amusement flickered in his eyes, and you wondered what he was thinking. That you were a silly, little girl for thinking there was something other than lust? Silly for trusting him? “I didn’t want you to hurt yourself...I didn’t think I would hurt you, though,” he murmured, casting his eyes to neck. Your lips thinned. 

“Why did you look at me?” you asked him, and he looked at you like you were dumb, and you felt it. Shame blossomed in your chest, and you went to pull away, but he pulled you closer, raising his hands to your face. He cupped your cheeks, rubbing like he always did right underneath your eyes. 

“Chica...how could I not?” he whispered, looking at you like you were a candle flickering as he lit it with a burning match held between his fingers. Your lips parted, and he looked at your mouth before returning his gaze to your eyes, gently pulling you closer to him. 

You scoffed. “Bet you sure were disappointed huh,” you said, self deprecation loud and spoken clearly. But Gabe didn’t like this, face morphing into a confused and shocked expression. He must’ve been shocked you’d caught onto his real feelings for you, seeing past his ruse. 

“(Name)...” You flinched at your name. “Do you really think you’re ugly?” he asked, and you rolled your eyes. It was obvious, right? How  _ weren’t  _ you ugly? But the look on Gabe’s face was furious, enraged, and confused all at the same time, and you smiled bitterly at the realization he’d finally understood you caught him in his game. Now he would leave.

“How am I not?” you whispered.

Gabe looked appalled, disappointed and even more angry than before, something that surprised you. His eyes narrowed, his mouth slightly ajar in stunned silence and his grip lessened on your shoulders. With the lack of his grip on you now, you turned, but his hands grabbed back at you. Sudden anger and shame flourished within your stomach, hot and tangled together in a tight knot. As you were pulled to look back at his face, you opened your mouth with a loud, “Fuck-”

But you were interrupted with his lips against yours, furious and bold with whatever he was feeling in his core. You assumed it was lust, but you didn’t understand. He’d seen your flaws, the endless list of things you wanted to change about yourself. He should have walked away, leaving you sitting on a mattress; cold and hands empty, on your lap. But no...here he was kissing you with his hands slowly ghosting up your shoulders, drifting across your throat until they settled around your cheeks, again rubbing the bags under your eyes.

At first you stared at his face in surprise, marvelling at the crease in his brow and the way he squeezed his eyes shut. And slowly but surely, your eyes drifted shut, responding to the kiss. When Gabe felt you respond, he pulled away with a breathless laugh before moving his hands to your waist, ghosting his hands under the hem of your shirt, waiting. But you didn’t pull away, and instead you opened your eyes, looking at him under your brow. Gabe looked at you like you were a portrait, like you were the night sky; predictable but somehow infinitely inspiring. 

There must’ve been a spark in your eye, because he moved his hands under your shirt. His cold hands felt like a fever breaking against your hot skin, and you couldn’t help the blush on your cheeks when you shivered. A smirk twisted his lips, and he chuckled a deep sounding noise that made your blush only deepen. You looked away, embarrassed but he pressed a kiss to your jawbone, burrowing his head into the crook of your neck. 

“Don’t worry, chica,” he whispered, breath hot against your skin. You shuddered and he did that damn laugh again, pressing another kiss just beneath your ear. “You’re gorgeous.”

You went to pull away, to give him a long, surprised look. But he nipped at your neck, and it made you squeal, throwing your head back. This time, he laughed loudly, moving his hands from your stomach back down to your hips. You pouted down at him, and he moved his head away from your throat, a smirk present on his face. “Don’t lie to me,” you whispered, and he raised his eyebrows, doubting you. And you let him, believing in yourself fully. 

You tried to ignore how his song seemed to sing a sad song, faltering in its own form and beauty for a moment at your words. Your own hum tried to reach out to it, to med it with its waves, but the song retreated into his chest, protected by the layers of muscle and bones and skin. Rejected, your hum reached back into your veins, glowing white with anxiety.

Gabe’s brown eyes ghosted along the trails of your veins before returning to your eyes, hooking his thumbs under the waistband of your leggings. You looked away. “Do you hate yourself that much?” he asked. 

You looked down to the ground, remembering how it felt against the tips of your toes. Your eyebrows furrowed, the corners of your lips turning down. There was a tightness in your throat, and you reminded yourself it was not around it. “Why wouldn’t I?” you murmured, and the song reached back at you, but this time it did not wait for you. It wrapped around your own core, squeezing and pulling at you. Your breath caught in your throat at the sudden dimness in your veins, the sudden song in your head. And your breath caught as Gabe pulled your face towards his, pressing his lips against you with such intensity you gasped. 

His eyes were closed, his hands on your cheeks as he held you to him. He didn’t dare let go, and you didn’t want him to. Despite the sadness and anger in your chest, you melted into him, but your hands were still in the air as you were unsure where to put them. Did you touch him? No, that made it too real. That made this real. And standing in Talon kissing the drug addicted man who brought you here was anything but what you wanted to be real. 

_ Would you give up the man?  _

No. 

_ Would you give up the drugs?  _

No. 

_ Would you give up your life? _

You drew back, a gasp on your lips as your eyes fluttered open. And there he was...staring at you with an intensity you hadn’t expected. The look in his eyes made you stop, breath stuck in your throat and hands deadly still in the air. “You’re beautiful,” he whispered. 

“What about-”

And suddenly he was pushing you back, lips back on yours. You grunted, clumsily stepping back with the fear you would fall. But he wouldn’t drop you...Gabe wouldn’t hurt you. That’s what you told yourself, anyways, but with the scars on your skin and the trauma behind your eyes, it was hard to believe in something other than pain. 

The metal bedframe suddenly hit the back of your knees, and you jerked away, but he bit back at your bottom lip, dragging it across his teeth. You shuddered, suddenly aware of the slight copper taste on your tongue. He nipped back at your mouth, getting a small giggle from the base of your throat as you opened your eyes. Gabe’s own eyes were open, bright with something new, something determined. And that’s when he murmured, “Let me show you.” He slowly reached up and took hold of your still outstretched arms, glowly dimly as his song’s grip lessened. His hands were cold as he intertwined your fingers together, and he guided them to his hips. Touching him made your veins glow brighter, and a grin appeared on his face. You enjoyed making him look happy, even when his song was so unsure and damaged and...scared. You briefly wondered what had happened to him, and why, but soon you were being pushed back and you were toppling over the bedframe and a shriek was past your lips and…

You were on your back on your mattress, looking up at your ceiling in surprise. Did Gabe really just push you over the damn bedframe? You began to push yourself up, ready to chew him out when he was abruptly over you, hands planted on either side of your head. Eyes wide, you looked back at him, face shrouded in shadows but still enticing to look at. 

But even looking at him, the thought of  _ oh my god are we going to have sex  _ was persistent. Whether or not you had sex before was your business, but...with Gabe? In Talon? On drugs? 

You hadn’t had your fix for a few days, but he constantly had his. It was necessary to keep him from falling apart, from slowly losing himself to the atoms that made this universe new and alive. 

Was he even sure he was making the right decision? Were you? 

Were you ever making the right decision? The question had plagued your every waking thought, to the point where your throat stung and your veins glowed. You wondered if the world would test that thought in the future, and decided that it indeed would. But lying here, with Gabe moving his lips down over your stomach, you decided to shove it underneath the mattress and leave it there.

You couldn’t help but squirm as his breath ghosted over the small spot of revealed skin that the hem of your shirt failed to cover. Was this foreplay? You didn’t know what this was… Gabe was confusing, as was the entire world at the moment. 

Right...under the mattress, you told yourself with a huff. 

You wondered if he would hook his fingers underneath the waistband of your pants and yank them off, and you wondered if he would take off your shirt. You wondered if he meant this, or if he just wanted to get in your pants. And you wondered if you would regret this, and decided that maybe, yes, no...you would. 

But instead he nudged the fabric up further, and you lifted up your head with a furrow of your brow. You recognized the skin he had revealed, and saw a stretch mark. Heat was in your cheeks at the sight of something you were insecure about, and you were prepared to push him off when he pressed a kiss to the mark. The small gasp from your mouth made the heat in your cheeks intensify, but he just chuckled, using a hand to pull your shirt up further.

Thus, he revealed more scars, more stretch marks, more little imperfections that made looking in the mirror harder than it should be. And with each flaw in your eyes, he pressed a kiss, slow and tender. 

Was this the man who had killed Lucy without a second thought, putting a bullet in her head? Was this the man who had damn near killed you in the vents, consuming your very essence to satisfy some primal need in him? 

No, you decided. This was Gabriel Reyes, or who he had become when the mask came off. He was not Reaper, not right now, you told yourself. He was a man, dying with each little breath he took, but living with the injection of a needle in his arm. Strange, how he was as human as he was not. 

Many things were strange, you concluded. 

And it was strange how Gabe got to his feet after kissing every scar and mark and flaw he could find, not ripping off your pants to pummel you or making you get on your knees to please him. You got up, shocked with a mouth wide open at his sudden movement. Wait...he didn’t want to have sex with you?

The question must have been obvious, because he chuckled as he bent down to pick up his mask. “Chica, believe me, I want to cherish every part of you, but not like this,” he said, and you swallowed, understanding what he meant. He didn’t want you in his drug infused life, days after you died by your own hands. 

There were more questions than answers as he put his mask on, turning as quickly as he entered as he was ready to leave. But you stopped him, getting to your feet. Your hum reached out for his song, and it responded, wrapping around your fingers and dancing along your arms. “Wait,” you said, and he did just that. You scowled, chewing your lip. “What...what was that?” you asked. 

“An apology,” he said, and he turned to look at you. You saw those brown eyes behind that mask, the man behind the monster he appeared to be. And you nodded, stopping yourself from chewing any more. “Go to the training grounds when you’re done changing,” he said, and he was gone.

You were alone. 

The walls didn’t answer the thoughts in your head, housed by vicious tendencies and unforgiving routines. No, they clawed at your words, at your emotions and your body. They tore you from the inside out as you picked up the white uniform, pulling off your shirt.

You pressed your hands to where he had kissed, the ghosts of his lips making you shudder and tense. There were so many reasons to say no to him, to turn your back. But he was an ally...and you were scared to admit that he was more. You were scared to admit this was real, that this was reality. 

You were scared, throat tight and toes tickling. 

So you pulled on the uniform, raising your hands to your head. Your hair was short, barely there. You were the same woman you had been one week ago, but barely. Your body was the same besides a few new marks, but your mind was the floor you stood upon. 

Your veins hummed, a white glow reassuring you that maybe this was okay… Maybe it was okay to be happy, to forget the pain.

But as you opened the door, leaving the girl you were behind on your bed gazing out a window that lead to your death, you understood.

You could never forget the dead. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if you enjoyed this chapter,  
> LEAVE A COMMENT!  
> LEAVE KUDOS!  
> thanks for reading~!  
> have a great/day night, and don't forget you are beautiful! our flaws are what make us, but we define ourselves how we see fit.   
> <3


	11. Hum

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reader goes through training

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello devoted readers~~~!!!  
> i am so so so sorry for the lack of updates! life got crazy, and as this story was a part of nanowrimo, i took some time to relax and recover from the intense month! so as thanks for all the wonderful comments and kudos i received on the last chapter, here's an extra long chapter for you!  
> this chapter is very complex in that it deals with Gabe's character, Gabe's powers, and the reader's powers.   
> and i know some readers probably felt as though the time spent in Talon was far too long, so i have some good news! next chapter will involve the reader spending time out of the talon facility! i wont go any further than that! :)  
> i may or may not do a little christmas special for this story...im still debating it! if you'd like one, leave a comment! :)  
> TRIGGER WARNINGS FOR THIS STORY:  
> mentions of drugs  
> mentions of suicide and violence  
> PTSD   
> violence
> 
> enjoy this story! :)

Walking to the training room in the hallways by yourself was daunting, much more than you felt it needed to be. Without Sombra walking with you or Gabe, the lingering looks from other soldiers lasted much longer, and with your new uniform you felt weak and vulnerable under their gaze. They didn’t hold back their remarks, not afraid of repercussions. You briefly entertained the thought of telling Gabe about them. Imaging the man consuming their souls for treating you like an object made it somewhat more bearable. 

But when the soldiers walked by, their hum reached out for you. Your own hum instinctively reached for other people’s life energies, often times prodding and poking in curiosity. And with each prod and poke, you learned more and more from that person’s core, that person’s own life. One man only thought of his son, thought of getting home in time for dinner and playing baseball with him. Another man thought of that one prisoner who didn’t deserve what he was getting, the way he cried for help when Alan and Rick entered his room undoing their belts. 

Both of those men only gave you a nod...but the others…

The hum hissed when it touched their core, when it coursed through their veins. You assumed it was silly to give human traits and actions to what you assumed was a non-sentient being within you, but it was the only real term you could imagine to describe its reaction. The other men were evil, some more so than others. One man who whistled at you was going to the cell of a young girl in her early teens, intent on depriving her of sleep until she begged him. Then...then…

You won’t lie… When you heard his thoughts through the touch of the hum coursing through his veins, you clenched your hand into a fist. The hum’s grip around his core was tight, and he stopped, coughing viciously until you decided to let go. You remembered Mark’s eyes, and the hum retreated into you swiftly. Mark…

The man you killed.

You jerked yourself back to full consciousness, focusing all your attention on where you were, where you were going to and what was happening. You couldn’t afford to think like that...to remember all your mistakes. It was dangerous, especially now considering your mission. 

The man Widowmaker had shown you haunted each step you took in the hallway, his bright blue eyes replacing the irises of every soldier you passed. You could feel the hum whisper at the thought of him, wavering underneath the layers of skin you possessed to protect it. It felt threatened at the thought of the man, at the memory of the gun in his hand. 

You had to kill him. 

With a sharp inhale, you pushed aside those thoughts. There was nothing you could do at the moment to enact revenge, something you were afraid to admit was a driving force in staying alive. Your friends were dead, but you were not. They were six feet under the ground because of the man, while you were alive and kissing a man who made your knees shake and breath waver. 

You were alive, and your friends were not, killed by a man who definitely looked like he would join the Neo-Nazi group whom had attacked you. His voice echoed in your ears, and suddenly, you yearned for Gabe’s lips and the little nips under your neck. Anything to make you forget the man’s eyes, the smell of urine and blood, the sounds of gunshots bouncing off the walls…

Your fingers twitched. Your neck hurt.

Anything to forget. 

You turned, and the training room was there, doors closed but housing anxious soldiers preparing for a fight. It was strange to be among people who had trained years for this opportunity, when you walked in here with no experience or talent in the field whatsoever. The only speciality you possessed was the ability to make your veins glow white, to make time stutter and the universe shudder. 

The training room was hot and steamy as you pushed the door open, the previous training group just getting out of the showers after their session. The heat suddenly hit you, and the short uniform Gabe had given you was suddenly much less of a nuisance. But the long sleeves that stretched past the tips of your fingers were suddenly uncomfortable, and you rolled them up to the best of your abilities. 

You didn’t know where to go, as you saw familiar soldiers from the day before getting into their uniforms for the session. You didn’t know anyone other than Lesedi, and her short friend, but they were nowhere in sight. Swallowing roughly while trying to ignore how the hot temperature of the room stuck to your exposed skin, you stepped towards the door leading out to the training grounds.

The amount of boobs and whatnot out and about made it difficult to shove your way through the groups of soldier without feeling awkward and as though you were committing sexual assault with each step you took. It was overwhelming, and soon the hum was reacting, making you glow softly. 

But you were glowing just bright enough to get the attention of some fellow recruits, some stopping to stare. The heat seemed even worse now under the eyes of so many people you didn’t know, and the glowing only increased with your embarrassment. 

Thankfully, a hand clapped itself on your back, and you jumped. This earned a loud laugh, and you turned with a huff to see Lesedi with a big grin on her face. “Hey there,” she said. 

“You scared the shit out of me,” you said with a grumble, and the grin only grew in size, making the corners of her eyes crinkle. The hum reached out to her at the pretty sight, and wrapped itself around her waist, then around her shoulders, and then around her core. 

She’d fallen victim to a war, city destroyed by airstrikes and...robots?  _ The Omnic War… _ Lesedi’s hum answered, and you wondered if that was what the robots were referred to. There was rubble everywhere, tearing her clothes as she ran with her family. Her sister had been at the end of a smoky street when the airdrop struck, and-

_ Screams, rubble digging into my side. It’s on my leg, and I can’t feel it. Why can’t I feel my leg? Where’s Gina, where’s Dimitri? Where’s Ma and Pa?  _

**_YOU WILL NEVER BE ANYTHING._ **

_ Men in helmets cutting away at my bone, screams lost in the scratches and blood at the back of my throat. Why can’t I feel my leg? _

_ Why can’t I feel my- _

You jerked away from her grip, but Lesedi didn’t seem to notice the sudden tension in your frame. Your eyes were wide, lips thin as the hum retreated, thrumming around your own core. It took solace in the familiar song you possessed, the slight glow under your skin fading away to the familiar dullness you had once yearned to break from. 

With a shaky breath, you returned the smile Lesedi with one of your own. It was fake, God was it fake...but it was pleasing enough for Lesedi to wrap her arm around your shoulder and steer you away from the busy center of the locker room. With Lesedi on your side, other recruits nodded at the two of you and parted. It felt comforting to know at least someone had your back other than Gabe, and Lord knows how far he would go to protect you in public. His protection had been private and personal, tucked away only for you to see.

You briefly mulled over the thought that maybe he was ashamed of you, before Lesedi interrupted your thoughts as the two of you stopped. Her shorter friend was shirtless, back to you as she pulled on a sports bra. The sight made you blush, something that made Lesedi chuckle. “Hey Hoshi, nightlight here is on our team today,” Lesedi said, and Hoshi hummed as she pulled on a long sleeved Talon shirt. Once it was over her head, she turned and faced the two of you. 

She was beautiful, but in a dangerous way, a way that made the hum tighten around your insides and your palms to turn sweaty. Hoshi was all tough corners and sharp angles, eyes narrow with distrust and learned suspicion. She was a soldier, but more than that. 

Her own personal hum was a low whine, something with dark undertones you couldn’t quite see into. It was slow, circling her own core in practiced movements of sure efficiency and a definite confidence. 

Her own physical stature wasn’t as intimidating as her hum was, as she was short. But her physique was built, with defined muscles lining her arms and her stomach adorning abs. 

You didn’t know just how to feel about the Japanese woman, but if Lesedi was her friend, maybe that meant she was your friend too. You offered your hand to shake, but the woman’s eyes only dropped to your hand before looking back up at Lesedi. “ 光る女の子は私たちのチームにいる？”  she asked, native tongue sounding graceful as it rolled off of her lips. Furrowing your eyebrows, your hand dropped to your side as Lesedi nodded. Hoshi hummed, lips thinning. 

Lesedi finally rolled her eyes, crossing her arms. “Okay...maybe it said she was on the other team on the boards, but that doesn’t mean she can’t be on ours,” she sighed, and Hoshi shook her head before pulling on a vest. She tossed one to Lesedi, before throwing one to you. 

You nearly dropped the thing, surprised by its weight. Your surprise must have been evident, as Lesedi laughed as she pulled it on with ease. “First time, nightlight?” she asked and you huffed, pulling the article of clothing over your uniform. Compared to Lesedi and Hoshi, you were essentially nude going into this fight. Granted, you didn’t even know what the activity was for today, but it involved teams, and based on the vests, there would be fighting. 

“Are we doing paintball?” you asked, and Lesedi and Hoshi stopped to look at you. Lesedi looked amused, while Hoshi’s expression was unreadable. The small curve at the corners of your lips turned down at their looks, and the vest suddenly felt heavier. 

“Oh, nightlight…” Lesedi sighed, shaking her head as Hoshi turned back to her locker, closing it. “Okay, let’s line up. We should be starting soon,” she said. 

You weren’t surprised to turn and walk through the locker room only to see people jokingly fighting with one another, laughing loudly. It made you smile softly, trying to ignore the persistent tug deep in your chest. Their eyes were bright, mouths twisted up into cheerful, lively grins.

Something taken from them too soon.

Shaking your head, you swallowed roughly, looking back at Lesedi’s back as she led Hoshi and you towards the actual training grounds. You thought you saw Hoshi staring at you, but when you cast a glance in her direction, she was merely walking with narrow eyes and thin lips. 

Her hum was even more quiet now, and your own hum poked and prodded at her core in an attempt to gauge her emotions. But you merely found nothing, something that startled you. Your memories flitted back to Gabe and his red eyes, the grip he held onto you tighter than he would ever realize. 

“ _ I don’t want you to become a mindless toy.”  _

Was Hoshi...was Hoshi brainwashed?

Would  _ you  _ be brainwashed? 

The thought troubled you, making your eyes flit to your feet and the area in front of you in thought. But once you heard the creak of a door, you looked up to see Lesedi pushing open the locker room doors that led to the training ground. You swallowed the ball of anxiety in your throat and followed her, Hoshi opening the door beside you two. 

Stepping out onto the training grounds, you saw that the flat, open area where the squadron had practiced hand to hand combat the day before had been changed. Now, there were large objects lined around the open space. It looked as though it were made to provide cover, with certain areas accessible for flanking, hiding and so on. The rest of the training grounds still looked as though it were a small city, perfect for paintball.

But then again...this apparently wasn’t paintball. 

Some people were already lined up, tying their boots or doing stretches. A young girl with hair pulled up into double buns on the tops of her head was peering through the scope of a sniper, hitting the wall with darts. You watched the weapons hit the wall, sticking closely together in what you assumed the girl imagined as an enemy’s head. 

A hand pressed itself on your shoulder, and you turned to see Lesedi, whom was also staring at the girl. “That’s Alzbeta...She’s from the Czech Republic,” Lesedi whispered, and you furrowed your eyebrows. Her skin was pale, possibly due to her Czechian heritage, and her eyes were narrow with dark brown eyes. She was beautiful as well, but her hum was strange. It was weak, barely there. It resembled that of someone on the verge of death, but she was moving efficiently and definitely breathing. 

“I thought Widowmaker was the sniper?” you asked and Lesedi nodded, taking her hand off of you. You didn’t move your gaze from Alzbeta, however, watching her as you moved the hum around her frame, trying to understand why her hum was so weak, and her song was so quiet. You didn’t know much about your powers, only knowing what you had been told or had learned. But you did know that a weak hum was not good, especially after…

You swallowed.

After you killed a man. 

“She is...but lately, Talon’s been bringing in more and more soldiers, some without any formal training. But she…”

There was another shot, and one dart pierced another. Alzbeta smiled, almost to herself as she rested the sniper on her shoulder. Your eyes were wide and you breathed out a soft chuckle. “She’s not gonna like that,” you muttered, and Lesedi looked at you in confusion. 

If Widowmaker was training this group, as she seemed to be doing with Sombra’s and Gabe’s help, she wouldn’t enjoy there being another sniper. Especially if the sniper was as good as Alzbeta. 

There was an abrupt, shrill whistle, and everyone tensed, getting into position all along a long, straight line in practiced motions. They were swift, without flaw in your eyes as you stood there, surprised. If anyone looked at you and noticed, they didn’t show it as they maintained position. After a moment of confusion, you followed their movements, somewhat slower than everyone else. You looked over at Lesedi for any sign of comfort, yet found none as  Lesedi turned as straight as a pole, arms at her side and eyes pointed towards the grounds.

Holy shit...this was serious.

The air only grew thicker as there were the soft but distinct click of heels on the ground behind them, emerging from the locker room. You knew that sound better than anyone here, remembering it bouncing off of white walls as you thought of different ways to escape. Goosebumps pricked your skin at the noise, remembering all too well the taste of blood on your tongue and the feeling of water in your lungs. You shivered, and the woman emerged in from behind the group, tight with practiced poise and head held high. You risked a glance over at Alzbeta, yet saw she was expressionless, following Widow’s movements with proficiency.

It felt far longer than it actually took for Widowmaker to turn around, addressing the long line of soldiers with narrow eyes and thin lips. Her song was sad as you carefully reached for her core, afraid of what you might find. But before you could find her core and wrap your own hum around it, she spoke. “Recruits, today, as most of you know…” A pointed look was sent your way, and you swallowed. “We will be practicing actual combat. To do this, you will all choose your selected weapon, and be assigned to teams. You will wear armor that resembles what you will wear on a mission, and you will perform as though you this is reality,” she said, voice calm and collected. 

At the mention of combat, you frowned, chewing on your lips. You could barely take down Sombra, even with your powers. Fighting people with a weapon? You briefly wondered if it would just be pellets, until there was another set of footsteps approaching from behind. This time, however, they were heavier, resounding viciously in your ears. 

You tried to ignore the flutter in your chest as you felt the familiar pull on your core, hearing a long, dark tune in the background. It made the corners of your lips twitch as Gabe approached Widowmaker, taking long, steady steps you knew were a ploy to intimidate the recruits. But he didn’t intimidate you...even when he was Reaper. When he put on that mask, he may have become a monster, but even monsters were men. 

He turned to face the entirety of you, and you could feel the entire line shift subconsciously. Under Death’s eyes, many men would crumble as the world did beneath His feet. But you had looked at Death, and Death had taken hold of you with insistent fingers and a fine grip. Death had been sweet, honey on your tongue and blood on your lips. 

Death had been Heaven, hot in your belly and cool to your feet. 

You could feel everyone shift their attention to Reaper, but you only felt your eyes on him. The hum lit up under your skin, yet remained dull. But he knew...oh he knew what he did to you.

And he loved it. 

“This simulation is reminiscent to Capture the Flag,” Widowmaker continued, casting Reaper only a quick look from the side of her eye. “However-”

“Shoot everyone,” Reaper said, and you would’ve shivered at the sound of his tough voice, the one he didn’t care to have around you. His voice was deep, and gravelly due to the constant death he endured. But sometimes...sometimes he sounded more alive than dead. 

A hand raised, and you felt everyone turn their eyes towards the person raising their hand. It was Alzbeta, and when the attention was on her, she dropped her arm to her side. There was no fear in her eyes, no fear in her body. No...she was not afraid. How? “What ammo shall we be using?” she asked, voice heavily accented. 

That question seemed to hang in the air for a few moments, heavy in your nose and light in your chest. What ammo? Did they change it often? 

Your question was answered when Sombra appeared from thin air once again, a dart in her hand. Others reacted to her sudden appearance, but you were more focused on the object in her hand. A dart? Maybe with the armor, it wouldn’t pierce, and when hit, you had to sit for a few moments. 

Your relief was other’s sudden fear, sudden shift in their posture and murmur under their breath. You didn’t understand...why were they so afraid? 

Glancing over at Lesedi, you saw the woman’s lips were thin, eyes narrow. Hoshi looked the same as usual, except somewhat paler. Good lord...if Hoshi was scared then what the hell did these darts do?

Swallowing, you reached out for hums around you to gauge the situation. But something soaked up your hum into itself, encompassing it with a darkness you’d only felt once before. Your throat hurt, and your eyes traveled over to Reaper. He looked back. 

Was he protecting you, or…

Your veins lost their glow. 

“Is everyone aware of their teams?” Widowmaker asked, not even batting an eyelash at Sombra’s dramatic entrance. Reaper was just shaking his head slowly at Sombra’s antics, while the Latina herself had a smirk on her face. Everyone nodded their head in unison, yet you were too slow to join them. Instead, you stared at the dart still held up high in Sombra’s hand. 

It made you remember the needle you didn’t dare admit to miss. Remembering the fuzz in your head when your veins turned black instead of white made your throat dry, your chest heavy with want. Forgetting your depression, the tightness around your throat and the knots in your stomach was a dream for anyone who struggled. 

And the drug was the answer to the dream. 

Widowmaker nodded, pleased with the response. “Blue team...step forward,” she said, and a number of people did just as she asked. Looking at them with narrow eyes, she nodded. “Reaper will be your ally,” she said, and you saw the man crack his knuckles and his neck, turning to cross the training grounds. The members of the blue team waited to follow him, however, until Widowmaker said, “Dismissed.” 

They quickly followed after Reaper, some murmuring nervously to one another. More often than not, the soldiers of the Blue Team looked nervous. They were quick to get to the other side of the grounds, where you assumed their base was. But Alzebta followed slowly, looking around the training grounds with careful eyes. 

“Shit,” Lesedi whispered, and you looked at her. Her own eyes were on Alzbeta, eyebrows furrowed as she bit her lip in thought. “Alzbeta’s with them,” she murmured, and you looked back to the pale girl. You wondered if she was looking for potential sniping spots, but she was gone before you could clench her core and squeeze out her thought and intentions. 

“Red team...step forward ,” Widowmaker said, and everyone did just that. You followed, lacking the same grace. Widowmaker’s eyes immediately traveled to you, narrow with speculation. You wondered if she knew that you were on the Blue Team, and when she raised her eyebrow, you knew that she did. Would she call you out...punish you, even? But she didn’t do anything other than say, “You have one minute to get prepared. Capture the other team’s data to win,” she said, and Sombra finally pocketed the dart, stepping forward with a devilish grin.

One of the soldiers groaned and she blew a kiss at him, “Hola, ready to kick some ass?” she asked, and some sighed while others laughed. Sombra looked over at you with inquisitive eyes, but when a loud bell rang and a voice began to count down to zero, everyone lost interest. They all ran to the wall on your left, and you turned to watch, unsure of what to do.

One man ran up to the wall and smacked a small panel, making it open to reveal a large arsenal of weapons. A woman grabbed an assault rifle, while a man grabbed a shotgun. Lesedi pulled out a flamethrower, however, looking at you with an intensity you hadn’t seen before. Her eye held a new spark, but she moved away when Hoshi threw a helmet at her. Lesedi merely nodded at the woman before pulling it on. Hoshi looked over to you, surprised to see you merely standing still in awe. 

“Come,” she said, voice heavily accented. You nodded, jogging over. When you were close enough, she tossed the helmet to you, and you looked at it in your hands. Hoshi saw your confusion and fear. “Put it on. Otherwise, you will die,” she said, and you looked at her with wide eyes. Hoshi’s face was expressionless, but someone elbowed your side. You looked over to see Lesedi, face invisible but you knew she was smiling. 

“That was a joke,” she said, and you looked back to Hoshi only to see the woman pulling out two pistols, head now covered by the helmet. “Here, put it on. I’ll turn it on for you,” she said, and you did just that.

The helmet was bulky and heavy, making you stumble for a second until Lesedi steaded you. You would be embarrassed if you weren’t scared shitless, thoughts fast in your head. Your anxiety had never been this bad, and the hum was reacting wildly, making your veins burn. You imagined you were glowing brightly, but with your helmet turned off, you saw nothing.

Finally, there was a soft hum and you could see. There were blue lights on the inside of the helmet, softly illuminating your face as the world stretched out beyond you. You looked up, breathless as you saw blue figures light up off in the distance on the training ground. They all had names above their figure, with a small panel of their vitals below it. It was amazing. 

The voice reached thirty, and Lesedi cursed, and you looked over to her as she rummaged through the wall of weapons. “You need a weapon, shit,” she said, and you shook your head, hands moving wildly in panic.

“I-I don’t know how to fight,” you said.

Lesedi emerged from the wall with a single, pump shotgun, thrusting it into your hands with a pointed look. “Safety’s off, for obvious reasons. When you see someone, pull the trigger and pull back this to reload. The gun uses energy around it to recharge, and you have four shots before it has to recharge. Understand?” she said, and you nodded, not understanding at all.

“We are fucked,” Hoshi said, and you looked at the woman. She looked calm, although certain about her words. 

“Remember, Hoshi...we talked about this,” Lesedi sighed.

“Think positively,” Hoshi said, and Lesedi nodded. 

“Yes, so what should you say to be positive?” Lesedi asked, and Hoshi furrowed her eyebrows. 

“Hmm...The odds of us winning is 12%,” she said, and Lesedi opened her mouth, prepared to argue before shaking her head, looking at you. 

“Stay with us no matter what. Okay?” she said and you nodded, swallowing roughly. The voice reached “ten”, and Lesedi turned, and you turned your attention back to the training grounds. There were roughly five people at the base. One man had set up a small turret that was on the side of a blockade, and he typed furiously on a small hologram projecting from the armor on his arm. Another woman was flicking a syringe before pocketing it into a small case that hugged the side of her hip, pulling out another. 

The other 12 were on various points of the map, preparing in their own ways. Their glowing figures didn’t provide much intel on the specifics, but some were talking, and their voices broadcasted through your helmet.

You were a bit overwhelmed, but you didn’t have enough time to be amazed as there was a loud siren echoing throughout the training grounds. Instantly, it fell silent, the only noise coming from your radio. People whom were talking were whispering now, and you saw many of them crouching. A few were on their own, while others were together. 

Lesedi checked something on her flamethrower, sitting on the ground and gesturing for you to do the same. You crouched next to her behind a barricade, and Hoshi was next to you. Her face was visible to you, and she had narrow eyes.

“ 私たちの計画は何ですか？” Hoshi said. You heard the Japanese due to her being next to you, but in your helmet, you heard perfect English. “What is our plan?” you heard her say in your helmet, and your eyes were wide in awe. Damn, despite the Hell you were in,  technology had made massive steps forward. That pleased you, making your chest warm and lips turn up. 

But a single shot echoed off of the walls, and you turned with a jump, afraid you were about to be hit by a dart. A loud scream followed the noise, and one of the lone, blue figures flashed red, health depleted. 

“Alzbeta,” Hoshi whispered, and you swallowed roughly, looking back at the date you were supposed to keep. If Alzebta had already taken out one of your teammates, how impressive of a sniper was she really? You’d heard Widowmaker was considered one of the best, and if the woman felt threatened by the Czechian, then it was possible you would be taken out within mere moments of hearing the shot ring out. 

You tried to ignore the burning in your veins, how your vitals in the upper right of your helmet’s screen showed your heart rate increasing rapidly. Your palms were sweaty, and you quickly rubbed them on your armor. Eyes were on you, and you briefly wondered if Alzebta was near, reading to end you with a dart. But you looked over to see Hoshi staring at you, not even bothering to look away when you noticed her. 

“I’m gonna go join up with the others...Hoshi, stay with nightlight,” Lesedi said, frowning as she corrected something on her flamethrower. She looked intense, but beautiful with the blue light illuminating her face. Her core was sparkling with excitement, but burning with fear. 

“Good luck,” you said, and Lesedi nodded before throwing a look behind her. 

“Desmond, got any infrared hacks?” she asked through the radio, and soon the light in her helmet flashed red. “Thanks,” she said as she took a long, hard look at the training ground. “Okay, nightlight, no one’s near yet, but it looks like they have a team of maybe five coming down the left. Stay with Hoshi, she’ll protect you,” Lesedi said, addressing you with calming eyes. You nodded, taking a deep breath as Lesedi ran out of cover, quickly descending into the training grounds. 

With an exhale, you spared a look over at Hoshi, who was still staring at you. 

“That man,” the radio in your head said. “Reaper...he will be here soon,” she said, and you felt goosebumps prick your skin at the mention of the man. Lesedi had said you were meant to be on the other team, the team with Reaper as their assistant. You were meant to be under his protection, but now you weren’t. You would be going against him, and would fight him as he was surely offensive when it came to battle. Your powers would be dampened with the use of his own core, and the realization made your breath stop completely.

The hum tightened itself around your veins, understanding the importance of the threat you’d just realized. It would protect itself, which meant protecting you. You had to find a way around Reaper’s powers, while staying alive and away from Alzbeta, and while protecting the date. Your grip on the shotgun tightened as you began to chew your lips, troubled. 

Was this what a mission was like?

“Man down!” Lesedi yelled in the comms, and you looked over to see the man whom had armed the turrets pressing a button on the side of his helmet. His helmet quickly turned green, and his turrets lit up. Darts flew out of them at a quick speed, and a loud scream was heard. You threw a look over the barricade against your back to see a girl fall from a bridge connecting one room to another, hitting the ground with a harsh smack. 

Your eyes widened at the sight and sound, while Hoshi merely hummed, unamused. “Foolish,” she said, and you spared a look at her in shock. She was expressionless, eyes dull and uninterested at the poor girl’s fate. You reached out for the injured girl’s hum, trying to gauge her pain, but when your hum circled itself around her core, you felt a familiar song wrap itself around you. 

Your breaths grew shot and labored as your hum quickly retreated into your frame, veins burning with a new flame. The world flickered black around the corners as that dark song echoed in your ears, bouncing around in the thoughts in your head. “Fuck,” you hissed, pressing a hand to your chest as it became difficult to breathe. Hoshi shot you a look that was alarmed as possible for her, throwing a look over the barricade. 

“Contact! Contact!” a man yelled, voice breaking up. There were the harsh sounds of shotguns, however, followed by screams and cries. If Hoshi had looked alarmed, she looked panicked now with wider eyes and a thinner lips, pressing a hand to your back as you tried to regain control of your hum. The song was infectious, spreading through your veins as it completely canceled out your powers. 

Being powerless scared you, but having to fight while being so was even more terrifying. Hoshi must have seen the glow underneath your armor go out because she shoved you to the ground so you were on your side. You looked up at her, coughing as the song grew louder. 

Memories of your friends dying flashed before your eyes, Hoshi’s eyes becoming dull with death and skin painted with red.. The smell of blood stung your nostrils as you tried to breathe, the sound of gunshots becoming deafening as you squeezed your eyes shut. 

No...not again. Not again…

“Medic!” you faintly heard Hoshi hiss, the Japanese louder than the English this time. 

Jack Morrison’s eyes as he pressed the gun against your forehead, metal cold and wet as you thought of Justice, thought of your mom and dad. You thought of the sky looking in those eyes, of the bright days of summer and the cold days of winter. You had to kill him, end that freedom he thought he found in the blue of his eyes. 

You had to. 

Your throat hurt and you grabbed it, tears streaming down your face. You faintly felt a hand on your chest, surely holding you down as you tried to breathe. But it was impossible...the noose growing tighter around you. The world was gone beneath your feet as you struggled for purchase, trying to get air in and out. There was no hope however as the blankets pulled and tugged, not allowing any chance.

The universe stretched beyond you, infinite and endless with colors and sounds you had never heard. Stars and galaxies wrapped themselves around your body, poking and prodding in your veins. A prick in your elbow, lighting up your veins with ideas and languages lost in the fabric of time.

But it melted away into Hoshi’s face, turned away as she yelled and shot. The bullets were loud as you returned to the training grounds, the song leaving your head as you breathed. A woman was sitting beside you, pocketing a syringe with a determined look. At the sight of you conscious, she hissed, “Can you fight?”

You nodded, and she pulled you up so you were sitting. The shotgun was thrust back into your grip as the world’s hum flowed back into you, energizing you with its forgotten thrum. The song...had it done this to you? Did Reaper do that to you?

“What…” you trailed off, and the woman nodded.

“It happens to all of us,” she said, understanding. “It brings down even the most powerful of us,” she explained, and you rubbed your temples as Hoshi jumped over the barricade, shooting rapidly with both pistols. You watched her take cover ahead of the barricade you and the medic were behind. “But now you have to protect the data,” the medic told you. “Can you do that?”

You nodded, unsure if you really could. But now that the song had somehow retreated, the hum was back, coursing through the veins of nearby enemies. You could feel their hearts beat, hear their thoughts scream. Had you defeated Reaper’s song, pushing it behind you effectively? You wondered if it would be permanent, or if you would have to fight it again soon. 

The thought worried you, but now you had to protect the data. Hoshi had gone off to push back some of the attackers, but when you looked to find her blue figure, you found nothing. Your breath caught in your throat at her disappearance, and you went to go ask the medic when there was a loud shot near you.

The medic pulled you down with an impressive amount of force, making you hit your head on the barricade. You weren’t hit by a dart, but a loud scream caught your attention. Looking to your side, you saw the man whom had set up the turrets on the ground, dart sticking out of his neck. His eyes were wide, mouth open wide as he tried to breathe with a hand wrapped around the dart. The blue figure he once had was flashing red as he struggled to breathe, eyes locked on the sky in a manner that chilled you.

“Shit,” the medic said behind you, and you heard her start rummaging around in her pack. But you didn’t turn and look at her. Instead, your attention was held by the man who was began to convulse, a foam beginning to form around his mouth. Was he seizing? Oh my god, was he going to die?

Your hum reached out for him, but it quickly retreated when a familiar song grew loud in your ears, lights flickering around you. The smell of blood and urine stung your nose again and you took a deep, shaky breath. “Reaper’s here,” you said, and the medic stopped rummaging. You spared her a look over your shoulder, and saw her pulling out a pistol from her side, checking the ammo and whatnot. 

“How can you tell?” she asked, and you swallowed, trying to ignore how your hum wrapped itself around your core protectively. You could fight the song, but that would leave you open for an attack, and based on what had happened to turret guy, you didn’t want that to happen. 

“The hum,” you told the woman, and she regarded you with a suspicious look. Surely she didn’t understand, and she would assume you were insane, but no. She merely checked her pistol again before sighing.

“I don’t know what the fuck you can do, but tell me where to shoot and I’ll shoot,” she said, and you nodded, understanding her response was probably the best you could get at the moment. You could possibly track down the source of the song, but it would take a few moments of focusing with your own hum. That would leave you wide open, but the medic seemed to understand. “Hoshi, do you copy?” There was no response from the woman. The only voices coming in from the radio were from the offense as they tried to get the data. “Shit,” she hissed.

You swallowed, clutching the shotgun to your chest. The song was growing louder...you didn’t need to use your powers to understand that. It was growing more intense, and you wondered if Reaper knew where you were. You wondered if he had similar powers as you, understanding and being able to manipulate his own hum. He had mentioned he was scared Talon would turn you into him, which implied much more than it answered.

With a deep breath, you swallowed your fear and looked at the medic. “Cover me. Give me one minute and I’ll find him,” you said, sure of yourself. If Gabe ( _ Reaper _ , you told yourself) didn’t have the amount of control you did, that gave you an advantage. And while you were sure Gabe wouldn’t put a dart into you, you weren’t sure about Reaper. Talon couldn’t know his weakness when it came to you. He had to treat you like the woman next to you, and that scared you.

You really didn’t want to foam at the mouth like turret guy, 

The woman looked at you with uncertainty, but now wasn’t the time to doubt yourself. You could all fail because you of your doubt, and Lord knows what happened to the failing team. You would lose respect from your teammates, which could prove to be more deadly than the actual darts themselves. So with a quick huff, you closed your eyes, flexing your fingers as you willed the hum to course through your body. 

It felt warm within your veins, like drinking hot cocoa as snow descended from the heavens around you. It was comforting, reassuring you of its power as it flowed from your chest to your feet, and then into the ground around you. The hum was aware of the song, making sure to stay as far away from its reach as it checked the perimeters.

You couldn’t see them, per say, but you could feel them. You could feel their certainty of landing a shot on the medic, ready to roll into the cover on your right and land a quick shot on her shoulder. “On you right,” you managed to bite out just in time, and you could feel the medic’s heartbeat fasten as she moved beside you, a soft but hard shot hitting the enemy in the leg. Their vitals quickly shifted as they began to convulse, gurgling.

The hum wrapped itself around their core, pulling on happy memories as it lulled them into a pitiful slumber. You felt bad for their pain, but you told yourself that it was you or them. And like you said, foaming at the mouth didn’t seem like a good time.

The song grew louder in your ears as the downed enemy fell asleep, forgetting their pain for a while. The hum heard it too, quickly returning into the tips of your fingers instinctively.  But you bit your lip, willing it back out. The hum wasn’t human, no, but you could feel its fear as it spread through the ground, trying to find Reaper. The hum was connected to your core, and your core was shaking, afraid of remembering those blue eyes, the blankets around your throat, the drug in your veins. 

You couldn’t let that define you, you told yourself. You couldn’t let your past become your future. The hum understood that as you spread your fingers out, intensifying its speed as it searched. 

The song was entrancing in your ears, making you remember Gabe’s lips, the way his fingers ghosted over your stomach. It was warm, something you wanted to wrap yourself around. But the moment your hum touched it, it turned cold and freezing, stilling you completely. Your breath caught in your throat, remembering Lush’s boxes cutting open your arms and the bodies you tripped over. 

You remembered a little girl looking at you, eyes not seeing past the number five. You counted to three, and opened your eyes.

“Behind,” you breathed, and the medic beside you jumped up, spinning around. You did the same, but only turned as you kicked yourself off of the barricade, barely missing a quick shot at your back. 

The medic wasn’t as lucky as Reaper materialized from a cloud of smoke, face covered by his familiar mask. Your breath caught in your throat as the air around you turned cold, the hum wrapping itself around your core protectively. His song was screaming now, making black spots flicker in your vision as he pointed his gun at the medic, pulling the trigger with no hesitation. A flurry of darts flew out, a number of them embedding itself into her armor. 

The medic screamed as she dropped to the ground, convulsing and foaming at the mouth. Her screams joined Reaper’s song, and you looked from her to Reaper. He was staring at you, and you could feel his hesitation. But he had to pull it...he had to otherwise you would be pulled into the white room with Widowmaker’s nails ghosting along your neck, legs wrapped around your waist.

He had to.

And you did too.

You reached for the trigger of your shotgun just as Reaper pulled up his gun, his song twisting and turning with uncertainty. You were about to be shot, and the memories of the terrorist attack flitted before your eyes, breath caught in your throat. The hum responded to the memories, scalding in your veins as you dropped the shotgun, rolling to the right. A loud shot bounced off of the barricades, darts surely hitting the barricade behind you. 

Fuck. 

You breathed out a laugh at the confirmation that Reaper would damn well put a dart in you. It made your chest tighten, your lips to grow wet with nervous spit. Was this real? Or were you right about him wanting to just get in your pants?

If you could, you would hit yourself right then and there. There were more important things than your feelings. 

You didn’t know all of your powers, but seeming to tap into someone’s own hum to trace their previous movements was one of them. That was what you’d done to Sombra the day prior, so as your back skidded along the metal floor, you threw your hands forward in front of you. The song almost immediately went away as your hands glowed brightly, breath fogging up the visor of your helmet. You could feel the song melt away into your own fingers as you tapped into Reaper’s hum, tracing his movements from before.

Closing your eyes shut, you clenched your hand into a fist with a cry, suddenly without form and without a mind. You simply  _ were _ , ghosting through the complex fabric of space and time. People were screaming in your ears, familiar blue eyes begging you to stay the night. Gunpowder stuck on your tongue, skin on fire as you sobbed.

_ What have you done? _

A boy now a man, bags under his eyes and cigar in his mouth. You ask to bum one from him, and take a long hit, inhaling your essence. It swelled in your lungs, chest swollen with death. 

Rigor mortis, always. 

And then you were you, a girl with too many flaws and too many regrets. You were glowing like the sun, eyes white with power and mouth agape with words in a language you shouldn’t be able to speak. Were you dying? Why did breathing hurt, why was your skin grey with scars you had never expected to keep?

Why were you alive?

With a shaky breath, you were standing, stuck in a vessel powers of yours shouldn’t be in. You felt as though you were breaking away, your core flaking off in the form of stardust. Existing felt unstable, as though you were glitching out of whatever plane of the universe you were standing on. You could feel your very essence being ripped apart from the inside out, and you briefly wondered if this is what Reaper experienced when he inject Talon’s drug into his veins. 

You could see Reaper turn to look at you, but the way he moved made it appear as though you were watching through a TV with bad reception. You tried to focus on him, to try and establish your place in this dimension. But you were being pulled apart in every direction, torn from the inside out as you reached for him, hand glowing brightly but flickering consistently. 

Were you going to die? 

The realization your life could be slipping away hit you hard as you reached for Reaper, not caring about this stupid simulation anymore. Your life was on the line, and it was being pulled further and further apart. Reaper seemed to notice that something was amiss as he dropped his shotguns to his side, tilting his head in confusion. You wondered what you looked like to him, if he could even really see you. You could see your world...No, it wasn’t your world. Your world was left behind 60 years ago, lost to the power of the hum that seemed connected to much more than you. 

“Gabe,” you said, and he touched you.

The world shattered around you, and you could taste blood in your throat. You weren’t sure if you were screaming, as there was a loud ringing in your ears as colors collided in front of you. You saw the birth of galaxies, the destruction of stars.

And behind it all, you saw yourself.

You frowned.

And then you were on the ground, a shotgun against your chest as you peered back up at Reaper. You gasped, the hum shrinking back into your chest and stomach at the sound of the song. Reaper didn’t respond to the noise as he merely stared at you, not moving or speaking.

Finally, a soft, “Lo siento, cariño,” was uttered from behind that mask, and you saw him get ready to pull the trigger. You squeezed your eyes shut, prepared for the worst when a familiar sound of shots rang out. Reaper hissed, disappearing into a cloud of smoke as he vanished. You watched him ghost away, on your stomach with the throbbing between your fingers. 

What…

“動いて、あなたはイトー！” Hoshi screamed, hand grabbing the back of your armor as she tugged you behind cover. You smacked your head on a barricade as a dart whizzed by you, slicing through some exposed flesh on your leg. You hissed, at the pain, reaching to press your finger to the open flesh when a hand wrapped itself around your mouth, pulling you flush against an armored body. “Do not speak,” Hoshi whispered.

You looked back at her, surprised that she was still in the simulation. She had disappeared completely, and you had assumed the worst. But no...she was still somehow running around. But she wasn’t unwounded, a dart sticking out of her left shoulder. You frowned, getting her attention as you gestured towards the weapon. She sighed, plucking it out as she let you go. 

“How are you-?”

“Alive?” she asked, and you nodded, swallowing roughly. You were in pain considering the obvious strain on your powers and now the cut on your leg. The actual cut itself didn’t hurt, but whatever was in the dart or coated around it made it sting like a bitch. How was Hoshi not reacting to it? Did the armor stop it from penetrating? “You are good at glowing, I am good at moving,” she offered as an explanation, and you furrowed your brow, ready to ask what to do when a loud alarm began to blare from where the data was located.

The two of you spun around to look at where the data was located, only to see Alzebta standing there, holding up a box with a small smirk on her face. Hoshi bounced to her feet, pulling out her gun only to have a dart hit her breastplate. Hoshi flinched at the impact, but didn’t show any other reaction as she squeezed the trigger of her gun. Her own dart rushed out, hitting the wall besides Alzbeta’s head. 

The girl smiled, an eerie sight that made you reach for Hoshi, trying to pull her down. “Hoshi,” you began, but the Japanese girl didn’t spare a look. No...she reloaded her gun, lifting it up for another shot when Alzebta formed her fingers into the form of a gun. She squeezed one eye shut, aiming it at Hoshi’s head.

“Třesk,” she said, and a loud shot rang out. Hoshi dropped to the ground with no noise other than the thud of her body, and you looked at her in absolute shock. She was on her stomach, convulsing rapidly. If she was foaming, being on her stomach was the worst possible position to be in. You quickly scrambled over to her, pushing her onto her back. Yep, foam was beginning to foam at the corner of her mouth as her eyes look at you hopelessly.

You swallowed, looking up to see Alzbeta pocketing the cube that surely held their data. She didn’t seem to perceive you as a threat, only sparing you a smug look before running off. Chewing on your lip, you looked back at Hoshi, debating on whether or not leaving her. It seemed wrong to abandon her now, but Hoshi stared at you, saying more through her eyes than her mouth. 

This was so wrong.

You grabbed her hand, giving a reassuring squeeze as you got to your feet. You had to get that data...it was all on you now with the entire defense taken down. The offense wouldn’t be able to catch Alzbeta, as only a few of them remained now on the other’s point. 

With a deep breath, you got to your feet, pressing a hand to your ear to activate the radio. “I need infrared...now,” you said over the comm chatter, and soon your helmet’s light flashed red, revealing Alzbeta’s position. She wasn’t too far away, but you needed to move  _ now  _ if you wanted to catch her.

You weren’t fit by any means, but adrenaline worked miracles for speed. Soon, you were running as fast you could through the training grounds, catching up to Alzbeta quicker than you expected. She hadn’t expected you to get over your fear and actually come after her, and once she heard your footsteps, she quickened her pace. While you were gaining on her, she was more agile than you, stopping to jump up and grab a ledge. You scrambled to a stop, watching her scale a large wall.

How the hell…

Understanding your loss, Alzbeta peaked over the ledge and smiled before resuming her quest. You bit your lip, damn well ready to accept your defeat when you felt a familiar pull on your core. The hum…

Your powers were still drained, your head light with the lack of proper air as your body recovered. But that wouldn’t stop you...not when your reputation and possibly your  _ life  _ depended on your success. You thrust your hands forward, prodding for Alzbeta’s hum. The girl may be quick and sneaky, but no one could hide their hum from you, and soon you found it.

And when you found it, you wrapped your hands around it and  _ pulled _ .

You could feel the universe shudder beneath your feet as you drifted off into its grasp, unsure of what you had just done. You had tried to catch up to Alzbeta, but it felt as though you had done more than just that. No...you could feel her core in you as you pulled and pulled until something snapped. 

And then you were on your back, staring up at a metal sky and flashing lights. You couldn’t breathe...oh no, yes you could. Could you move? You flexed your fingers...yes, you could. Could you stand? You rolled onto your side, suddenly aware of the pounding pain in your head. With a groan, you got to your knees and went to rub your temples for a moment before remembering your task.

Alzbeta…

Yes, you could stand and you realized that very quickly. But Alzbeta was nowhere to be seen, but the cube was at your feet. You should’ve felt happy, proud even, but no, you felt troubled as you bent down to pick it up. The alarm from your base stopped ringing as it registered whom you were, and you clutched it to your chest protectively. The hum wrapped itself around the cube happily, tired from the excessive use of its abilities.

“Nighlight, you got our data?” Lesedi asked over the comms, and you were happy to hear her voice. You breathed out a sigh of relief, raising your free hand to the side of your helmet. 

“Yeah, all defense is down,” you said, and there was quiet chatter from their side before a reply.

“Good, return to base. We have the data. Sombra en route,” Lesedi said, and you chewed your lip, looking back down at the cube. Who knew a dumb square was worth so much trouble?

Shaking your head, you turned and prepared to return to the base when you were met with bright eyes and hands reaching out to grab you. A scream ripped itself from your throat as you fell down flat on your ass, dropping the cube as you reached for your shotgun. Your weapon was nowhere to be found, however, and you cussed as you remembered leaving it beside Hoshi.

The hum would have to do, but as you reached for it it thrummed before dying on the tips of your fingers. You’d used too much of your powers, and you prepared for a dart in your throat as revenge for getting the cube from Alzbeta.

But nothing happened.

You opened your eyes, not even remembering squeezing them shut in anticipation of being shot. But when you saw what was in front of you, you regretted even opening them. 

It was Alzbeta, but frozen.

Yes...frozen.

Frost coated her face and her eyelashes, painting a pretty picture of being stuck in time. She was alive, yes, as she blinked and tried to move in the sculpture of ice molded around her body. Thick ice supported her build, morphing around her arms and legs in precise lines. You swallowed in fear, reaching forward to touch the ice but stopping when Alzbeta made a noise that resembled a scream. 

Did...did you do this?

You shook your head, feeling familiar tears prick at your eyes. “No...oh...oh no,” you sobbed, tripping over your feet. You collapsed onto the ground, tears trickling down your shielded face. But soon the helmet didn’t provide enough air to breathe, and you pulled it off, throwing it to the side. 

Alzbeta watched you helplessly, perfectly aware of her situation and yours. You looked at her with wide, red eyes as you tried to breathe, to calm yourself. How...how had you done this to her? It was just a dumb simulation...she didn’t deserve this. No...no…

No.

There was the sound of footsteps behind you, but you couldn’t even bring yourself to care. Your eyes were trained on Alzbeta’s frozen figure, asking yourself how, asking yourself why… Asking questions you could never begin to answer. 

A hand rested itself on your back, and you spun around, kicking the person off with a cry. “Don’t touch me! I’ll hurt you too,” you sobbed, scrambling to the ledge of the bridge you were on. Sombra was crouched down near where you’d been, eyes wide with shock and surprise. Her gaze traveled back to Alzbeta, widening even more at the sight. Seeing her surprised and possibly mortified made you break down further, curling into a tight ball. 

You were a monster.

You were a monster. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hoshi and Lesedi are a lot of fun to write! here's some translations:  
> Translations: Glowing girl is on our team? = 光る女の子は私たちのチームにいる？  
> 動いて、あなたはイトー！= Get the fuck down!   
> Bang=třesk  
> i wasn't sure if to write the Japanese in its original form, or in romaji... 
> 
> IF YOU ENJOYED THIS CHAPTER,  
> PLEASE LEAVE A COMMENT!  
> comments make my day and keep this story going! not a lot of comments is discouraging :(  
> PLEASE LEAVE KUDOS!  
> kudos help spread this story and make it popular! more kudos means more people! :)  
> AND HAVE A GREAT DAY!   
> THANKS FOR READING!!
> 
>  
> 
> also...LEAVE A COMMENT IF YOU WANT A CHRISTMAS SPECIAL! :)  
> <3


	12. Christmas Special~!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Happy Holidays!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas, everyone!  
> And happy holidays to everyone who doesn't celebrate Christmas, or celebrates something else!  
> I'd like to thank every single one of your for giving me the best gift possible: kudos and comments! Every kudos I get is a present, and every comment I get is a gift! I am so thankful for all of your support, and the love you all have for this story, and all my other stories! It means the world :)  
> So as thanks, I wrote a little chapter for you all. While it is SOMEWHAT serious, I hope it makes you smile or feel warm inside. I did feature some of our favorite characters, but only a little bit.   
> Now this story will not be canon and it will not have happened in the timeline of the actual story. Next chapter will pick up right after the reader froze Alzbeta!  
> Now without further ado...   
> ENJOY~~~!

Talon didn’t officially celebrate Christmas, considering the fact that it had plenty of soldiers and members from various countries and varying religions. Some soldiers celebrated Hanukkah, while others celebrated Ramadan. You celebrated in your own personal ways, but considering that you’d only been considered something other than a prisoner for a short while, you didn’t plan on celebrating. 

But Sombra had other plans. 

That morning, as you peacefully ate some oatmeal while blinking away the grogginess in your eyes, she sat down next to you so quickly it made you spill some of your breakfast. You shot her a dirty look as she threw her arm around your shoulders, pulling you in closer. 

“Buenos dias, chica,” she said, a mischievous grin stretching her features. You kept chewing, not bothering yourself with a reply. It was too early to verbally spar with Sombra, especially with the shit eating grin on her face at the time. So you merely continued eating, waiting for the Latina to continue. “Happy holidays! Do you celebrate?”

You shrugged. Being in Talon and being addicted to a drug didn’t really call for celebration. The place didn’t scream “festive spirit”, and even if you were in interested in celebrating, there was no way to get presents. There was no “Talon Gift Store” last time you checked, and you weren’t being paid for being their experiment. According to the organization, having a nice bed and not being tortured was a gift on its own. “I mean...I used to,” you replied, poking at your oatmeal without any interest no. 

Today was supposed to be a somewhat normal, happy day. Some soldiers were laughing loudly, some even giving one another gifts in mess hall. You knew some had taken the liberty to put wreaths up despite Talon’s strict regulations, but despite all that, it was just a regular day to you. You would train harshly, get your fix and go to sleep.

Maybe Gabe would pay you a visit… The thought made something in your chest flutter, and you took a bite of your oatmeal. 

Sombra noticed, the grin spreading even larger as she scooted closer. “What if I told you that Reaper got you a present,” she said, and you threw a look over at her in disbelief. You snorted, rolling your eyes. 

“I would call you a liar,” you said, taking another bite. Sombra’s grin turned into a smirk as she moved her hand through the air, making screens appear. You stopped lifting the spoon to your mouth in awe, surprised by the sight. You knew she was a hacker, but how the hell could she summon screens out of thin air? You decided as a gift to yourself, you wouldn’t mull on it and instead narrowed your eyes, looking at the footage playing on one.

It was rather grainy and you briefly wondered why Talon, who could apparently afford a huge task force, at least one huge facility and a bunch of scientists, couldn’t afford decent security cameras. But that thought was lost when you saw Reaper ghost through a vent, which fascinated you until you saw him pull something out of his pocket. Sombra paused the footage, and zoomed in, revealing a small box. You sat back in your chair, crossing your arms. “Who says it couldn’t just be something for him, or, Hell, for Widow?” you asked, not believing Sombra.

Sombra snorted, giving you a look that made you widen your eyes with an innocent, “What?”

“While Gabe and Widow are close, Widow would be pissed if he got her a present. It ruins her whole ‘I’m emotionless and would kill a kitten’ persona,” Sombra said and you could see her point. “Besides, I thought the same thing until he came to me this morning and asked for my help,” she said, sinking back in her chair. She crossed her legs playfully, thrumming her fingers against the table.

You stared at her with pursed lips. “With…?” you asked, and Sombra giggled.

“Wrapping it,” she said, and you could not believe Gabriel Reyes, codename Reaper, the man who consumed souls and was sexually attracted to shotguns, did not know how to wrap presents. 

“Oh my God,” you giggled, and Sombra laughed too. 

“I know.”

Not your interest piqued, and you pushed your oatmeal in front of you, done with eating it. If Gabe had gotten you something, then you needed to get him something too. But what could you get? Sombra could tell you were troubled, and flicked the screens away. 

You frowned. “What do I get him? It’s not like there’s a fucking mall here,” you grumbled, and Sombra looked at you for a long time until you returned the gaze. You furrowed your eyebrows at her. “What?”

“Holy fucking shit,” you said, laughing uncontrollably as snow hit your face. You looked up at the sky, arms extended outward in obvious fascination. The sky hadn’t changed in the past 60 years, something that made your chest warm with comfort. While your world had completely changed, the universe around you hadn’t.

Sombra was watching you from the car she had stolen, arms crossed and lips turned up in a smile. She had broken you out of the Talon HQ for a few hours, but with terms and conditions.

You couldn’t run away, otherwise she would have to tranquilize you and turn you in. On the way out of the HQ, you had to be blindfolded so you didn’t know where you were. And lastly; don’t cause a scene.

You didn’t care as you stood in an empty parking lot, a few cars only present as many families were surely home with one another. But here you were; outside and free...with certain restrictions. This was a gift enough, and Sombra knew it as you twirled in circles, giggling. 

Maybe the world wasn’t so bad…

Sombra cleared her throat, getting your attention. “Chica, I don’t mean to rush you, but we have to be back in an hour before they notice the car’s missing,” Sombra told you, and you tried to ignore the swelling of disappointment in your chest. Your arms returned to your side, but your eyes did not stray from the stars in the sky. 

“How do they not notice a  _ car  _ is missing?” you asked finally, turning to face Sombra. The girl looked baffled too, shrugging as she kicked herself off of said car. The were at a small outlet mall not too far from the base, and if you hadn’t skipped six decades, you’d probably have a general idea of where you were. But the only guidance you had was the sky, and all you knew was that the north star was bright.

Would’ve been nice if education had taught you how to navigate based on that…

The outlet mall was surprisingly open, and Sombra told you that while Christmas was a holiday, some stores stayed open in case of returns and literal last minute shopping. You didn’t mind, and as Sombra walked you around, you were pleased to see some shopping brands still existed. “You’re shitting me,” you said as you saw the last thing you expected… “Hot Topic is still around?” you asked, and Sombra snorted. “Damn, Gabe would’ve loved it back in my day,” you said, thinking of all the emo apparel he would definitely dig. The thought made you giggle. 

Sombra laughed too, but was preoccupied with her holographic tablet. She was busy furiously typing away, but you didn’t mind. No...you were entranced with your surroundings. Actually being out in the world you’d left behind for six decades was overwhelming, yes, but seeing the new technology and seeing remnants of your life from before was reassuring.

The world was okay. 

At least, until Sombra grabbed your shoulder and threw you on the ground. You hit your head on the pavement, making stars flicker in your vision. The hum reacted to the sudden pain, making you glow softly as a ringing echoed in your ears. You groaned, pressing a hand to your head when Sombra suddenly pulled your back against her torso, hand around your mouth.

You didn’t understand what was happening until you heard gruff voices getting closer. You had no idea whom they belonged to, but with memories of the Terrorist attack six decades ago, you listened to Sombra. She wouldn’t get you hurt, you told yourself.

But she was Talon…

“Someone called in reporting a sighting of her around here,” a man said, voice tired. You frowned, not understanding at first. Were they talking about you, or Sombra? “She was spotted being held hostage by Talon’s Sombra,” the man said, and you got your answer. Hostage? No...that wasn’t the word you’d use to describe what Sombra was doing to you. Talon was holding you prisoner, while the Latina was just trying to make you happy, make things better.

“Poor girl…” a woman’s voice said, and you noted the British accent. Did these people want to kill you? Was it the Terrorist organization that attacked you back in 2016, back to finish the job? That thought made your blood turn cold, your skin suddenly completely aware of the cold temperature and snow hitting your bare skin. 

You looked up to see Sombra looking around the newspaper dispenser the two of you were hiding behind, eyes narrow. You knew she was debating calling Talon, but if she did that, there would be harsh repercussions. You wondered if being killed would be better than being held prisoner again and being rehabilitated. Would Talon turn you into Widowmaker for doing this? 

Would Sombra be killed?

The fear you felt was immense, and the hum was reacting more and more to your feelings of anxiety. You began to glow even brighter, something that made Sombra look at you in alarm. If you got too bright, the Terrorists would surely spot you. The thousands of thoughts Sombra must’ve been having flitted across her eyes, and she swallowed, letting you go. 

“Stay here,” she whispered, voice barely audible. You nodded, and she clicked a few buttons on her toolpad before disappearing. Your eyes widened, and you realized you were alone. Did she leave you behind?

No..she wouldn’t do that, right?

“Spread out. I’ll search over here, you search over there,” the gruff man said, and your heart damn near stopped as you heard footsteps start to get closer towards your hiding spot. You tried to shrink back against the newspaper dispenser, wondering if you dare risk using your powers. Would you glow even brighter tracking their movements, giving away your position? Or would it save your life?

You made your decision too late, finding the closest life form as they peeked over the newspaper dispenser. It was a woman with brown hair that stuck up all over the place, curious and wide eyes covered by goggles. She was beautiful, but so was the woman who shot your friend. With a scream, you threw your hands forward and put all of your hum’s power in the movement, sending the girl flying. She flew back a few feet, hitting the ground with a loud thud.

Breathing heavily, you scrambled to your feet and began to run back towards the car. You knew the other man would come searching at the noise, surely getting a message from the girl over their radio. But you didn’t care...you had to run. And so you did, suddenly thankful for the little training you had from Talon.

But that didn’t stop the arms that wrapped around you as a large force tackled you to the ground, taking you down to the ground. Once again, you smacked your head on the pavement, but the injuries you would’ve received sliding across the ground was broken by a body. Stars flickered in your vision as the ringing returned, your veins burning as they surely glowed a bright, white color. 

You blinked away the pain, groaning as you felt yourself be pinned to the ground. The pain made you groggy, forgetting where you were for a few moments until you saw a man. His eyes were covered by a red visor, hair white and revealed face old with age and scarred with violence. 

He definitely looked like a terrorist.

You tried to use the hum to shove him off, but without moving your arms, you couldn’t perform the same move you’d used on the woman. The fear in your chest made you unable to focus on your power and teleport behind the man, and so you lay there, breathing heavily.

Where was Sombra?

You couldn’t see the man’s face, but you could read his core. It was fractured, broken by a bomb and clouded in gunpowder. You saw a farm, land stretching miles over the hills in a way that reminded you of when you took long road trips with your family. And most importantly you saw…

“Gabe?” you gasped, as said man materialized behind the terrorist. At the sound and change in the air, the man let you go and spun around, reaching for his rifle. But Gabe, or Reaper, had the advantage, hitting the man square across the jaw with one of his shotguns. The man sprawled across the pavement, but you knew he wouldn’t stay down.

Paralyzed with fear, you merely looked at the man and then to Reaper, who growled in anger. His core was dark, darker than usual as it seeped into your veins. The white glow suddenly turned black and you felt your stomach churn, remembering that one time you were caught cheating on a test, failing your first class and-

“Move!” Sombra hissed, suddenly grabbing your shoulders and hoisting you to your feet. You stumbled, blinking away the sudden tears in your eyes. Right...you and Sombra had been ambushed by the terrorists. And now Reaper was here…

You gasped, turning around to look back at the man. He was fighting with the terrorist, shooting each shotgun without fear. Jesus...he was mad. You turned to look at Sombra, who was helping you walk. Her face was pulled tight with worry as she stopped in her tracks for a second, hoisting your arm around her shoulder. “Gabe’s mad,” you said, breathless 

She looked at you, snorting under her breath. “That’s an understatement,” she replied, and that's when you heard the sound of glass shattering. You looked over Sombra’s shoulder, surprised she didn’t stop to look. Reaper had thrown the terrorist through a store’s window, and you saw the man getting to his feet, various areas of his body cut by the glass. But Reaper...he didn’t stop and wait for the man to get to his feet. He merely ghosted into the store, materializing from nothing and shooting.

You swallowed, looking back towards where the two of you were walking when Sombra suddenly dropped you. You stumbled, landing on your knees as you scraped your palms on the pavement. A groan came to your lips, and you turned only to see Sombra shooting after a blue light. Her weapon was impressive, something not to be toyed with. But the blue light...why was she-?

Oh... you thought dumbly. The blue light suddenly turned into the woman from before, a grin on her face as she waved at Sombra. “Hey Sombra!” she said casually, but the Latina woman merely rolled her eyes, raising her gun to shoot again. But right as her bullets began to fly, the woman turned into a blue light again and was suddenly near Sombra, grabbing her gun from her hands. “Aw...that’s not very nice. I thought we were friends!” the woman said, and Sombra threw her elbow at the girl’s face. Of course, she turned into a blue light again, dodging with Sombra’s gun in her hands.

“Fuck,” Sombra said, turning as she picked you up again. You moved to the best of your abilities with Sombra, but the Latina was too fast. Gabe’s anger made you slow down, seeing black in your vision as his fury seeped into your core. It was like poison, and you couldn’t stop it anymore. You dropped to your knees, making Sombra stop with wide eyes. Breathing was hard as you collapsed onto your side, core dripping with venom. 

You couldn’t make it…

You faintly heard the sounds of battle, but the darkness took you into its hold, pulling you deep down into its universe…

And you woke up. 

A bright light was above you, blinding your vision. You groaned at the sight, reaching up to block its effects. But as soon as you moved, the light turned off and a hand wrapped around yours, pulling it to your side. You flinched at the touch, pulling away until you looked over and saw…

“Gabe,” you croaked out, surprised by how dry your throat was. The man, face unmasked, nodded, handing you a glass of water. You took hold of it, thankful for his hand on your back as he helped guide you up into a sitting position. Greedily, you drank the water, thankful for its soothing effect. But that didn’t stop the dam of thoughts exploding as you looked over to Gabe,  a frown on your face.

Oh God…

“What happened?” you asked, voice unusually quiet. Gabe frowned, his core starting to seep into yours again with anger. But once he noticed how pale you turned, his frown softened, the venom ceasing to drip into your hum. And as he made eye contact with you, you saw that fury turn into worry, a sight that made your cheeks turn red. 

“Overwatch got a tip from someone that you and Sombra were at that outlet mall, and ambushed you,” he said, setting the glass on a table to your side. You looked over to see that you were in the infirmary, room white with medical undertones. The sight of the white room made goosebumps prick your skin, but Gabe took hold of your hand in his, sensing your unease. You smiled in thanks, but waited for him to continue. “They sent some of their best… but Sombra and I took care of them,” he told you, and you noticed the purposeful lack of detail in the story.

But if Gabe didn’t want to talk about it then so be it. You were just thankful the terrorists hadn’t gotten you, or hurt Gabe or Sombra. “I’m happy you and Sombra are okay,” you told him, and at the mention of the woman, Gabe’s grip around you tightened. It didn’t hurt you, no, but the reason behind his grip worried you. You squeezed back, pressing him on with a look of your own.

His eyebrows were furrowed, lips thin and downturned. He was a handsome man, even when angry and skin flaking off into black smoke. “Why did Sombra risk your life like that…you could have been hurt,” he hissed, and you noticed how his eyes turned red at his emotions of anger. You swallowed roughly, squeezing his hand again. That got his attention, and he looked back at you with eyes that made your chest hurt. 

Gabe was so hurt, so fractured at the edges and broken in the inside. But even underneath those cracks, there was a beautiful image, something worth fixing. And if you couldn’t fix him, then fine. Bandages would be enough, even if he ripped them off. 

“I’m okay, though, Gabe,” you reassured him, but that wasn’t a good enough answer.

“No...why? She should be punished...no injection for a week, at least, for hurting-”

“I asked her to,” you interrupted, and he stopped. His gaze, which had been on the door, turned to you slowly, surprised. You felt ashamed at worrying him so much, to put him through so much pain. In the fight against the terrorist man, he must’ve been hurt. If you hadn’t been so dumb then maybe this could’ve been avoided. You chewed your lip, veins glowing lightly. “She told me that you uh...got me a present and I felt bad because I have nothing for you so I asked if I could get one and-”

Gabe cut you off, pressing his lips against yours. You grunted in surprise, eyes wide as his were squeezed tight. His free hand cupped your face, finger rubbing at the corner of your eyes. The two of you often didn’t have time to see one another, nonetheless be alone together. So his sudden and very public display of affection took you aback. He could be punished, for this, and he knew that well.

But he still kissed you. And you couldn’t help but smile against his lips, melting into his touch as you reciprocated. 

He didn’t push the kiss far, keeping it chaste for the most part. Maybe there had been a little tongue, but that was besides the point. As he pulled away, he pressed his forehead to yours, holding your gaze with his own. The red that had painted his irises faded into their normal brown glow, and you smiled again. “You don’t owe me anything,  cariño. I just want you to be happy...healthy,” he whispered, and you pressed a quick kiss to his lips in thanks. 

Gabe looked as though he wanted to return the kiss, but he didn’t. Instead, he pulled away, fishing around in his pocket for something. You looked at him, confused for a moment, until he took a small bag out. You grinned, realizing it was his present. “Couldn’t wrap it?” you asked, and he glared at you, grumbling under his breath.

“I can return it,” he said, and you rolled your eyes, grabbing it from him.

“Whatever, you big baby,” you teased, pulling out the tissue paper. There was a smaller box in there, from a brand you didn’t recognize. You frowned, looking at him. But he was sitting back in his chair, a smug smirk on his face.

“Open it,” he said, gesturing to it. You could sense he was up to no good, and so you did as he asked. You took off the top of the box, revealing....

“Oh my god,” you said. 

“Do you like it?” he asked.

“Get out,” you said, and he laughed, getting to his feet as he went to flee the room. You threw the box at him, face red with embarrassment. 

“Okay...I’ll give you some privacy, niña mala,” he chuckled, closing the door behind him. 

You looked at the article of clothing on your lap, shaking your head.

To be fair...they were a nice pair of underwear. Although a bit too stringy and lacy...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you guys enjoyed this! I thought it was cute with Reaper getting so angry at the Reader being threatened by Overwatch, and some interactions with Sombra would be fun. While it's not super funny, I hope you guys still enjoyed it. :)  
> Now, the next chapter will be out in probably two weeks or so. I'm taking some time off to rest and recuperate from both school, work and working on this fic! The constant updates have been tiring haha  
> So thank you so much for all the kudos and comments!  
> HAVE A GREAT CHRISTMAS/HOLIDAYS!  
> LOVE,  
> Illunga <3


	13. How?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Talon is attacked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello readers!   
> sorry for the long absence of time! i was on break from school and took some time to myself. updates should start coming either once a week or every two weeks. i find the chapters getting longer and with longer chapters there's a longer wait.   
> now...this chapter is finally the change in the story! this changes everything in the story! so if you were waiting for the reader to get out of the prison then you're gonna want to start reading here again!  
> this chapter was fun to write as it includes reaper, and i hope you all enjoy that!   
> AND MOST IMPORTANTLY,  
> i'd like to thank miss nebula for her wonderful and much appreciated help in beta reading this work! her watchful eyes have helped me improve the story, and id like to thank her for this! she's wonderful and the quality of this story wouldn't be as high as it is without her. :)  
> and now...  
> ENJOY THE CHAPTER~!  
> TRIGGER WARNINGS:   
> mentions of suicide and drugs  
> violence   
> suicidal thoughts 
> 
> ENJOY~!

You woke up to the sound of alarms in your ears, startling you out of the darkness of a dreamless sleep almost immediately. At first, you thought that you were back home, waking up to your own alarm clock so you could get ready for work. You half-expected Justice to be on the floor, stretching with a yawn before curling up next to you.

But you woke up to an empty room, the small window above your bed revealing no light. You didn’t feel rested, and so you assumed that it was only a few hours after you fell asleep. After…

_ Alzbeta.  _

At the sudden memory of her, your breath caught in your throat as you lay there in your bed. Not only was the alarm loud, but your thoughts closely followed. You were doubting yourself, your position in this world. Did you belong here in this dimension, or were you meant to exist elsewhere? No human should possess the powers you do. 

You closed your eyes with a huff, rubbing at your eyes in disdain.

You couldn’t focus on that right now, and you understood that as you pushed yourself off of your bed. Sleep and fear had been controlling you before you collapsed into your own bed, and you found yourself wearing your training clothes. You were still only wearing Talon leggings and a tank top, but you quickly pulled on your commissioned boots. You’d be no use figuring out what was happening barefoot. You went to grab a sweatshirt but as you reached for it, there were loud gunshots outside of your door.

The sound of murder made you drop down low in the middle of your room, your sweatshirt forgotten in its drawer. A soft gasp found itself in the middle of your throat as you stared at your closed door, trying to find answers in its metal. You expected there to be yelling, for resistance against the one who fired the shots. But no...it was silent.

Were they all…

Were they all dead?

Did you dare use your powers? Using the hum after such a powerful use of it earlier was dangerous, especially considering your lack of knowledge on your own limits and whatnot. But if the base was under attack…

Memories of the earlier training simulation and what happened when you stretched the hum too thin haunted you. The colors no human should see, the songs of the Universe’s intricate thread beating in your chest. The pain...oh, how could you forget the pain. It had stabbed you in such a manner spiritual scars would surely remain until your being dissipated within the atoms of the stars. 

Your heart beat wildly, all grogginess left from the absence of sleep gone with the bullets. The hum wrapped itself around you protectively, and you twirled your finger, making your powers unwind and stretch itself across the room. 

You couldn’t dwell on your own pain, especially when your life was being threatened by external forces. 

But it was hard not to admit it…

You were scared to use your powers after what had happened to Alzbeta. The absolute power you had displayed terrified you to no ends. You’d been worried after damn near choking Sombra out, been disgusted with killing a man with your own mind, but freezing a woman?

That was terrifying. 

That was inhumane.

You briefly wondered if maybe the Terrorist’s who had tried to take your life sixty years ago, or a week in your eyes, were back to finish their plans. But Talon was heavily armored, prepared for these kinds of attacks. You hadn’t seen much of the base, but from what Sombra had told you, and the little you had seen, the base was advanced and one of Talon’s best. That’s why you were here…

That’s why Gabe was here. 

Oh no…

Were they here to kill him? 

Were they here to kill you?

The thought only added to the goosebumps on your skin as you crouched in the middle of your room, listening. There were no sounds outside of your door, but the hum could do more than just hear. It could feel the very essence of life, something that could not be obscured.You sent it out from your veins, tracing the walls and floors and…

The bodies.

The hum halted on the realization that the life it seeked out had been taken from the world. Tenderly, it wrapped itself around the vessels that had held a spirit now gone only to find that they were, indeed, guards. And startlingly, a recruit.

You spared a moment to gain more information, the hum reaching for the now dead core of the recruit. A man from your new squad… Norman. He liked potato and cheese soup, something his mom made for him when he returned home. There was also someone...a man he met behind the doors. 

Chester….

Chaste kisses, lingering touches, promises lost to the hand on the clock…

You closed your eyes. You sighed.

Sure, you didn’t like Talon. Hell, you despised the organization for not just what they did to you, but to others. But the guards were here to protect you, from either yourself or others. And the recruits… They had no idea. They had no idea of the atrocities they were being trained to commit.

Who deserved this? Was that even a question you could ask yourself?

You couldn’t focus on that, and you told yourself that with a sharp huff as you moved the hum out of the dead body of Norman.

What mattered now was the attacker. Whomever had infiltrated the base knew what they were doing, and that scared you. If they had planned this, it was possible they chose this location on purpose to try and find you. And it was possible they had blueprints, and knew schedules.

If they did, you could understand why they had chosen this time. Recruits were often eating dinner, a quick and easy hit if enacted with surprise. Guards were doing patrols, and were split up. 

Shit...

Something tugged on your fingers, and you reacted instantly. The hum sensed a life force,  and it quickly wrapped itself around the core of the vessel. You could feel their disbelief, their fear...you could hear their thoughts and hear their core sing and…

_ I could really use a smoke right about now.  _

What...what the hell?

_ That  _ was their thought? You wrapped the hum a little bit tighter, trying to gain more information about the person. They were a man, and based on the experience of their own hum’s song, they were in their thirties. You wanted to know more, a fault you seemed to have. But your curiosity was interrupted. 

He was getting closer.

The hum rushed back into you as you stared at your doorway with wide, expectant eyes. Did you move? You had to move...you were in the open. Would the man check the room? Surely he would… You had gone to sleep early, exhausted by the excessive use of your powers and troubled by your own thoughts. Your daily dose had also affected you, making you unable to walk.

You thought back to when Reaper first found you after freezing Alzbeta, curled in yourself with harsh, quick breaths and wide eyes. He had taken hold of you, and you had fought. Lord, you had fought. You scratched, you screamed, you bled…

_ “A nervous breakdown,”  _ Widowmaker had said, eyes only interested on the new marks on both your and Reaper’s skin. The needle had hurt at first when it slid into the soft spot on the other side of your elbow, but once the drug made your veins no longer flicker, nothing hurt.

And now...now everything hurt. 

The footsteps were loud in the hallway, and you could hear that the man was stepping over the bodies he was responsible for. Your breath caught in your throat, and you looked around, trying to spot a hiding spot. You couldn’t cross the room...he would see you. So you were stuck where you were, and hiding behind the dresser would be damn near impossible. 

So you scrambled to the wall on the right of your door, pressing your body against the cool metal. Your breathing felt loud, much louder than you hoped it was. Your fear was too intense, taking hold of you as the drug’s effects began to wear thin. The realization that a dangerous and armed man was outside of your door and had killed someone you knew had a sobering effect, unsurprisingly. 

You’d rather become sober differently though. 

The man’s footsteps stopped, and you squeezed your eyes shut, holding your breath. The hum instinctively groped out for any information, only to find he was right outside your door. Your eyes reopened, noticing your veins were glowing slight. 

Fuck.

No wonder why Lesedi called you nightlight.

Although glowing was extremely inconvenient at the moment. 

You abruptly wished you could sink into the cement of the wall, and briefly wondered why you couldn’t. Maybe you could? That would be nice, especially when you heard the man’s hand wrap around your door’s handle.

You stopped breathing, body turning cold with fear as you heard the man open your door. The door thankfully opened up and slowly covered you, not bumping into you somehow. You briefly thanked any and all Gods for the cover the door granted you, but didn’t move or exhale. The man slowly walked into the room, and you could now see him. 

He looked like a cowboy. A fucking cowboy…

The guards and Chester were killed by some Clint Eastwood fanboy. The anger that turned your veins hot and white made you bite down on your lip, the hum starting to flow dangerously fast through your veins. You could heard your heart...no, you could hear the man’s heart. It was steady, unlike Chester’s. It was steady, like his lover who would have to grieve in the shadows. 

If he weren’t dead already too. 

The thought made you clench your fist, feeling your power flow through the gaps of your fingers dangerously. The hum bent to your will, yes, but you could feel it break, feel it spark around the curves of your skin. It was becoming unhinged, unstable in the face of the man whom had killed an innocent recruit.

The man abruptly reached up and pressed something on his ear, and you assumed it was a radio. Your assumption was proved correct when the man said in southern accent, “Wing B secured. Any progress on Prison Block C?” he asked, and you furrowed your eyebrows. Prison Block C? 

Wasn’t that where you were…

Oh.

Oh no.

They were after you. 

_ You.  _

Your fear about these people belonging to the Terrorist group that had attacked you and your friends, effectively killing hundreds in cold blood was confirmed. And with the confirmation came the uncontrollable anger that made you glow so damn bright you felt your core become the core of a star. 

You were the Universe.

The Universe was you. 

“Infiltrating now. Go to security and find recent footage for any information we can use,” a gruff man said of the comm, and the cowboy didn’t have time to respond.

You pushed the door shut, and thrust a hand forward. Your veins flickered with the sheer force of your powers, and the man froze in place. His hand was still reaching to reply for his comms, his posture casual as he falsely thought he was safe.

No one was safe around you.

No one. 

His eyes still moved, yet you weren’t sure about his lips. You weren’t sure about anything, but you were sure of your power. And you would use it.

Even if it killed you.

_ Like it killed your friends.  _

“You fucking  _ bastards, _ ” you hissed, twirling your finger. The man, whom had had his back turned to you, spun around without moving his legs. He now faced you, your powers gripping his entire body. He was yours, now. And you would not let these Terrorists live for what they had done to you.

Done to the world around you. 

You briefly wondered what you looked like; a scared woman who had no idea what she was, what she could do...or a God, granted with powers no human should ever wield? Maybe you weren’t human...maybe you were a monster. 

Your veins were a bright white, and you could feel electricity crackling around you as you walked towards the man, literally frozen in fear. You could feel the very fabric of the world breaking around you and you moved through it, advancing on the man. His fear was evident, leaking like oil into the ocean. But it leaked into you, fueling you.

A monster. 

Right?

“How dare you come for me again? Haven’t you taken  _ enough? _ ” you sputtered, now aware of tears dripping down your face. They were hot against your skin, something that shouldn’t happen, but your body temperature was dropping with the use of your powers. You used your free hand to rub them away, only to see the color resembled that of your veins. And upon your skin, they crystallized. 

Something to mull over later...if you lived.

You could feel your atoms breaking apart with the world around you, with the man before you. The very power you had was becoming your most potent enemy, tearing you apart like a piece of paper that had the secrets of God written upon it. Humans weren’t meant to wield this power, to display it in such frightening and sophisticated ways. And so, you began to feel yourself dissolve, to be taken by the galaxy’s core and thrust into eternal darkness.

So be it…

You tightened your fist even more, and the man visibly choked. His face was turning blue. You couldn’t help the twitch at the corners of your lips. He was suffering....

Good.

“Haven’t you taken enough?” you whispered, leaning down to look the man in the eyes. He stared back, before looking behind you. You paused, turning and-

Something hit your jaw... _ hard.  _ You hit the ground, your fist unclenching as you smacked your head on the metal frame of your bed, The world flickered around you as you could feel your atoms return to a normal state, your being no longer threatened by the constant pull of the hum. But no...a new threat arrived. 

You spit out blood, shaking your head with a low groan. 

“McCree...are you alright?” a woman asked, voice concerned. McCree...the cowboy…

Shit. Your grip on him had been interrupted, effectively freeing him. He could move now, unharmed. But you, however...your powers were drained, your very being stretched thin.

And his friends were here…

Here to take you back.

You had to play this smart. Using your powers could potentially kill you in the best case scenario. You remembered your death after hanging yourself, recalling the afterlife you had experienced. It had been peaceful, tranquility found in the flickering lights of stars with dozens of lives circling them. But what would happen if you ripped yourself apart?

You’d find out soon enough, you supposed. 

You turned onto your side, casting your gaze on the room before you. You found the room to be at a nice inverted angle, and decided it would be best to correct that. With a soft grunt, you pushed your hands against the ground and sat up. 

That’s when they turned to look at you...the three people now in your room, that was. You furrowed your eyebrows, not recognizing any of them. There was McCree, or cowboy as you preferred to call him. There was a woman with short brown hair sporting a rather...eclectic outfit with bright orange tights. And a man with a odd...mask? No, a visor seemed to fit better in terms of its title. 

They seemed surprised to see you, and that didn’t make you feel anymore better about the situation. That’s right...they were heading to your previous prison block to find you, not your room. McCree’s finding of you wasn’t planned, and they weren’t fully prepared to deal with you. Neither were you, but that gave you a better chance in this situation. 

“Is that…” the girl trailed off, and they all turned to directly face you now. McCree was rubbing at his neck, frowning as he stared at you. You couldn’t focus on their gazes, no...you had to get up. You needed to fight. You needed to get out of here.

Maybe if you could defeat them you could escape and find Reaper...you could steal enough of the drug to last him a while and the two of your could escape. Sure, you’d live a life on the run. But you knew Reaper would protect you, and you could protect him.

You needed to get out of here, and the Terrorists were only here to transport you. 

With a groan, you got to your feet, stumbling and leaning against the wall behind you. With a hiss, you rubbed at your jaw. That would definitely bruise. 

“Does anyone else glow here? ‘Cuz if so, that wasn’t mentioned in the mission report,” McCree said, and you narrowed your eyes. 

“Why is she out of-”

“Phase two,” the old man said, voice gruff and experienced. Phase two? Was that what Talon had moved your status to when moving you out of your cell? Widowmaker had promoted you after you finally gave into her torture and killed a man. Getting addicted to the drug must’ve been an important component to ensure your success…

“What would you know of Talon?” you hissed, remembering the past week here all too well. You’d gone from a comfy and happy life living with Justice and having a good, stable job to getting addicted to a drug, killing a man and hanging yourself in only a few days. Your veins now glowed, your tears becoming crystals and your mind in a consistent state of turmoil. You’d died, and become Nightlight

What would they know? 

They could taste the animosity that dripped from your words, the fury that sparked from the tips of your fingers. They could see the pain breaking your eyes, wrapped around your throat. 

“I died here,” you whispered. 

The woman stepped forward, face twisted in empathy. The look made your stomach churn and you clenched your hands, pulling on the hum. It reacted, but only with a quarter of the power it should. You were right- your powers were drained after such extensive use. If you were to fight them, it would either have to be without your powers, or killing yourself with the use. 

Maybe…

“We’re only here to help, love,” the woman said, voice British. You narrowed your eyes.

You thought back to when you first uncovered the hum, feeling it flow through the walls. Your ability to pull it from yourself had not been unlocked, no, not until later. There were multiple conduits for the power, for the energy you called upon. The walls were one, people other… Could you pull on these sources to refuel yourself? 

“We won’t hurt you,” she told you, slowly taking steps forward. She approached you as though you were a hurt animal, snapping and biting out of fear. No...you weren’t afraid. 

You were angry. 

So angry.

You stretched your fingers, dispelling your own hum deep into your chest. While you found each person’s hum to be different, you couldn’t risk drawing from an unstable source. You reached out to the hum in the walls, closing your eyes as you let it bounce in your ears. You could feel your skin tingle, feel the sheer power spark and make the hairs on your arms stand up straight. 

You could feel your power. 

A soft laugh came out of your mouth as you opened your eyes. The man was reaching for the gun on his back, the woman taking a surprised step back as McCree reached for his holstered gun. They were too slow.

You would not let them take you too. 

“I can’t promise the same,” you murmured, and you clenched your fists.

 

Overwatch’s attack on the facility wasn’t surprising to Reaper. No, it was expected. While his superior’s assured both him and others that the facility was safe, he knew better. So did Widowmaker and Sombra, and they could all handle the situation if it came to it. So when that  _ fucking monkey  _ came flying through the cafeteria’s large window, he wasn’t surprised.

But he was sure as hell annoyed. 

It was protocol to always have a weapon on you in case of the given situation, but they didn’t carry all the ammo they needed. The newer recruits quickly found themselves out of ammo, definitely not prepared to be fighting a fucking talking monkey who insisted it was a scientist. Reaper was though, especially after their last confrontation. 

He was built to take down enemies like Winston, and with support, the ape was quickly limping away. He almost felt bad pressing the barrel of his shotgun against its face, getting caught up in his own self-absorbed world. What Reaper did not expect was a shot to his knee, effectively rendering him to a cloud of quickly retreating smoke. Even in Wraith form he could see the world around him, and he found himself staring at both a cyborg and a Japanese man with one tit hanging out.

Rematerializing, he growled, reloading his shotguns and cracking his neck. He saw the bow in the man’s hand, and shurikens in the other’s. The cyborg looked agile, as did the other man. Fighting a sniper was never fun, especially when he lost sight of a well trained one. But Sombra could easily sneak up on them, and Widowmaker was one of the best. Either one of them could effectively handle him, while Reaper could take on the cyborg or possible omnic.

The things gave him the creeps. 

Almost on cue, Sombra materialized beside him. He spared her a glance as she double checked her SMG, smirking at him with a wink. “ ¡Espera a que le cuentes esto a tu chica!” she called out before disappearing, and the two men quickly got into position. The Japanese man quickly readied a shot at Reaper’s head, but he quickly dissolved into smoke.

Falling out of line with the world was disorienting, and losing form was even more so. Reaper was still himself, yes, but at the same time, he was nothing more than air. He could feel the world as though he were a part of it, not just inhabiting it. The few soldiers who had remained either due to injuries or stupid bravery oozed of odor, sometimes fear and often sweat. He could hear their heartbeats, hear the harsh swallows of spit and the soft curses under their breath.

And even more importantly he could hear-

_ The hum.  _

That’s what she called it. 

The sound made him feel better, made him feel more reassured that you were okay. Before her, the hum had been in the background, a constant push on the restraints of his body. Sometimes, it was stronger, it was louder. Sometimes, he couldn’t sleep as it pulled on the very edge of his form, begging for him to dissolve into its sound. And then she came along, and it grew so loud Reaper couldn’t hear himself think.

And then it became her.

That’s what Widowmaker told him, anyways. She had been dressed in a turtleneck, something he had never seen her in before. She was beautiful, yes, even with that purple skin and the whole ‘no emotions’ condition she possessed. But before  _ her _ , he only thought of work, the next dose of the drug. He thought of getting revenge on Overwatch, punishing them for what they did to him. 

And then she appeared, hiding in a vent with those damn wide eyes and small body. He had only wanted to consume the hum that existed in her chest, a surely delicious meal that could stop the loud noises that haunted his sleep. But then she was behind him and-

_ “She’s a lamb,”  _ Widowmaker had said, watching the new recruits run laps outside in the rain. She had been nursing a hot cup of tea against her chest, eyes narrow with passive interest. Fuck whatever Talon said… Widowmaker got off on pain way too much for her to be emotionless. 

He had been amused, remembering the way she shivered in his arms when he carried her out into the designated car for extraction. He’d lost a lot of men in the hospital, and the car only had the driver and three other soldiers. Talon never cared, no...not if he got the job done. And she was the job… 

She became much more. 

_ “Why a lamb?”  _ he’d asked Widowmaker, and she had smiled as she took a sip of tea. 

_ “Because she is so easily tamed, Gabe,”  _ she’d whispered, and he’d tensed at his name. What had been his name, anyways. “ _ And she is either eaten or-”  _

_ “She becomes a wolf, _ ” he’d finished, and she’d spared him a look, raising an eyebrow in thought. Then she’d chuckled, setting the cup of tea down on the table beside her. Papers had been gathered in her hand in place of the cup, and she’d handed them to him with a light in her eyes.

The light was never good, he’d learned. 

The papers had been mostly gibberish to him, except a few key points. The objective stood out, and-

_ “She becomes me,”  _ he’d breathed out, and Widowmaker nodded, although shrugging. 

_ “More or less,”  _ she’d agreed, and he’d looked up at her, expression unreadable behind the mask he’d fashioned for just that purpose. He’d breathed out a chuckle, shaking his head.  _ “Except better.”  _

_ That  _ caught his attention, and he’d stopped, holding Widowmaker’s eyes. She couldn’t see behind it, now, but she’d known. She always knew. 

_ “Better how?”  _

She’d bitten her lip with a grin, pulling a piece of paper out from the stack she had handed to him. It was confidential, but that never stopped her. 

_ How? _

 

_ How?  _

You ran, hands burning with a pain you’d never encountered before. You had been drowned, tortured with toothpicks under your nails and a noose tight around your neck. But this...this made you trip over your own feet, crashing on the ground with a gasp. This made you cry, made you beg for death.

But death would be too nice of a sentence. 

Death was too easy, too quick.

This…

This felt like life. 

You let out a sob as you cradled your hands to your chest, curving in on yourself. The tears on your cheeks burned, and you threw your head back with a gasp, trying to breathe. Air was hard to find though as you begged for it to stop, for the pain to end. 

But whatever God was listening did not answer, casting their back upon you. After all, you were not human, not a child of any Holiness. No, you were a child of the Universe, and the Universe came from a single, burning point that created itself.

And now...now it was destroying you. 

You let out another sob, holding your burnings hand to your chest as you got to your knees. The absolute agony was disorienting, making you dizzy as you breathed loudly, trying to push back the dark edges around your vision. A wild spark strayed from your hand though, and you screamed, hitting your head on the wall behind you.

_ How?  _

 

A scream. 

That’s what Reaper said as he snapped the Japanese archer’s bow in half under the sole of his boot, raising his shotgun to finish the job. The cyborg had disappeared, something that didn’t really matter to Reaper at the moment. His friend was about to die quickly from a shotgun blast delivered by Reaper, and that’s all that stuck out.

And then there was a scream.

It was far away, lost in the hallways that surrounded the large base. There were plenty of people screaming, people yelling as they fought back against the Overwatch agents. Some cries were of help while others were of death, but this one…

This one was familiar.

It stretched the fabric of reality thin, making a loud ring pop Reaper’s ears as he winced, dropping his shotgun slightly in distraction. The archer sensed this, and grabbed Reaper’s hand, drawing him closer for a swift kick to the side of his head. But Reaper was quick...not as quick as he once was, but quick enough. He dissolved into smoke for more reasons than to just avoid the blow.

When he lost form but not thought, the hum was louder. It reached for those able to defy the limits of humanity, to reach a pinnacle no one should be capable of grasping. And as Reaper reached, he heard.

She was dying. The hum was faltering, something that only ever happened-

_ A noose… _

_ Made of blankets. _

_ The blankets he got for her to keep her warm, to keep her safe and- _

_ Her throat was purple, her eyes red.  _

_ Her lips moved. _

_ She begged for him to let her go, to let her die. _

He growled as he regained form, pressing a finger to the radio by his ear. “Sombra, take care of them. Now,” he hissed, and a snarky reply came back in Spanish. He heard, but he did not care, not as he fell back into wraith form for quick and efficient movement towards her. 

_ “Did she die?”  _

_ Widowmaker didn’t meet his gaze, no...not at first. She instead stared at her sleeping body, eyebrows furrowed and lips pursed in thought. Widowmaker looked at her like a project, one that went terribly wrong. _

_ But Reaper stared at her like she was a human so broken that a quick duct tape job wouldn’t do the trick. Widowmaker wanted to resolve this with the least time and the least amount of money, but Reaper… _

_ Reaper would spend all the money he could muster to keep her from becoming him, from losing herself to a world of drugs and waiting for the next dosage.  _

_ “Yes,” Widowmaker answered. _

_ Her throat was still purple.  _

The hallways were littered with bodies and blood, but the hallways that neared the rooms of soldiers became more sparse. Most of the recruits and soldiers were preparing to eat, and so that’s where Reaper found most bodies to be centered around. Overwatch had been planning this extensively, watching for days or even weeks to understand the base’s schedule. They understood this facility was high priority, and how to take down their forces.

Soldiers didn’t fight well hungry, and they knew that.

Reaper knew that.

But she...she didn’t know that.

He wondered if she was hungry, if she was scared as she screamed. The screams had subsided almost instantly when Reaper took his wraith form, and he didn’t know whether to be scared or relieved.

He was both. 

The bodies returned right when Reaper turned into her hallway. They had been taken down efficiently, and he frowned as he bent down and found Norman lying face down. A single entry point of the bullet was against the back of his head, and Reaper sighed, standing back up. He wondered if she’d watched him die, woken up by the sound of death.

He wondered if she fought back before deciding of course she did… That’s what she did, after all. She survived. 

No one ever said it would be easy, and she never agreed if someone did. 

Her room’s door was open, something that concerned him as he stepped in. It smelt of burnt flesh, and if Reaper had eaten, he might have gagged. The only person capable of burning either themselves or others would be her, hands glowing and heart beating. 

The floor was burnt, a sweater sticking out of her dresser aflame. There were three others burn marks on the floor, and Reaper growled, dissolving once again. 

They found her.

_ How?  _

 

“It’s killing her.”

Where were you? 

Oh...oh...what was that pain?

“What do you propose we do then? Cut off her fucking hands?”

You groaned, reaching to hold your aching head. That must be what hurts, right?

No.

It was your fingers, your wrist and-

“Maybe.”

Your hands.

The hum.

“Maybe we should.”

_ How?  _

 

There was a boot on the ground...Talon issued. It could’ve belonged to anyone, except-

_ “Fuck,” she sighed as she sat down next to Reaper, clearly struggling to stay awake after her injection. He often found it endearing, rather cute how her eyelids fluttered and she spilled oatmeal all over leggings. _

_ God...those legg- _

_ “What’s wrong?” he asked her, grumbling as he read the newest mission report Widowmaker had passed onto him. Overwatch was planning to travel to a city with a large Omnic population to help protect the Omnics, and of course, Talon was planning to sabotage this. Widowmaker was planning to frame an assassination on them, but- _

_ She spilled the oatmeal, and Reaper couldn’t help the grin on his face as she cursed, dabbing at the stain with her napkin.  The way her eyebrows pulled together and her lips turned into a pout haunted his dreams, made him turn over and- _

_ “I was practicing last night,” she said, a sentence that made his wandering thoughts and eyes stop. She knew she wasn’t supposed to use her powers without supervision, especially after killing a number of soldiers with her voice. Did she know that? Yes. Did she care? No, not really.  _

_ But Reaper cared...he cared way too much.  _

_ “(Y/N)...” he growled, setting the papers down to chastise her but she rolled her eyes, flicking some oatmeal at him. It landed on the mission report, and he stopped. Great...now he’d have to deal with Widowmaker. _

_ “Shut up, okay? I’m fine. I only kind of…” _

_ “What did you do?” he asked, wanting to take off his mask to rub at his temples.  _

_ She shrugged, looking mildly ashamed as she took a bite of oatmeal. “I uh...may have burnt the soles of my boots off,” she told him.  _

_ What...what the fuck? _

_ He paused, unsure of how to respond to her after that. She continued undisturbed, continuing to eat her oatmeal in relative peace. Reaper, however, stared at her with many questions on the tip of his tongue. Then he shook his head, and continued to read the mission report.  _

_ “Wanna see how?” she asked. _

_ “No.” _

 

The sole was burned off. 

Overwatch got her…

Did...did  _ he  _ get her?

Reaper threw the shoe to the side with a growl before disappearing into a cloud of smoke, moving faster than ever with the thought that Jack got her, Jack had his hands on her and-

The hum stopped. 

_ How?  _

“Gabe,” you breathed, watching him crumple to the ground through the vents. He couldn’t see you...no...not in the vents. “Gabe,” you breathed, reaching for him over the man’s shoulder. His hand reached up and pulled your arm back down, and you closed your eyes. 

“Gabe...I-”

“-love you,” he whispered against the wall.

“I love you,” he whispered against the floor.

“I love you,” he whispered against the world.

“I love you.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if you're interested in updates on the story and some of my writing follow me at :   
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	14. The Path is Closed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reader wakes up in Overwatch's base.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow okay ! its been roughly two weeks since I last updated, and im so sorry for that! exams came up, and life got super stressful and the little spare time I had was spent relaxing, planning this book with the wonderful miss nebula and working/studying!  
> excuses aside, im really excited to move into the next segment of this fanfic: overwatch! theres gonna be good twists from this point on, and a LOT of character development. in terms of the character however, the story will not get any less dark. from now on, the story will cover trauma, something very important for all the characters in this story.  
> this chapter isn't that long, but next chapter will be very interesting! i promise that!  
> once again, id like to thank the wonderful miss nebula for putting up with my constant messages about the story, beta reading my story (Which can sometimes be a hot mess) and helping me form this story better than i ever could on my own!  
> follow her on tumblr here! shes absolutely wonderful :   
> http://miss-nebula-and-a-side-of-tea.tumblr.com/  
> with all that said, this chapter will have the following trigger warnings:  
> reference to drugs, suicide, and violence  
> violence  
> enjoy the chapter~~~!

You were cold. So very, very cold… You couldn’t stop shivering, you knew that, as you curled in on yourself, trying to heat your body up. But that tugged on something in your hand, and you hissed, quickly unwinding in response to the pain. The shivers didn’t stop though and you pulled the blanket on top of you around you tighter and-

Wait...a blanket?

The thick feeling of cotton against your body made you jerk up with a loud wheeze caught in your throat, quickly shoving and kicking the fabric off. The world hit your eyes harshly, but not as harshly as the reminder of-

_ You couldn’t breathe. _

_ You clawed, trying to break free. You didn’t want to die, no- _

_ You had to survive, you had to and- _

You were free, the blankets pushed off at the end of the bed. But your mind was not, trapped on the lingering details of your death. You had to remind yourself that you survived, brought back by either forces that existed within the realm your feet sat upon, or the realm your hands reached into. There were no blankets around your throat, no. Not anymore. 

You could breathe, and you reached up to rub at where cotton had dug into your neck. Breathing got easier as you simply rubbed, eyes on your toes until you realized-

This wasn’t your room. 

Granted, the place you slept in at Talon wasn’t your room either. Technically, it was your prison, but compared to your old cell, it was anything but imprisonment. But it was as close to having your own room after the Terrorist attack you figured you’d have, especially now that-

_ Overwatch.  _

The memories rushed back, and the blankets didn’t compare to this fear. No, this fear was electric, setting you aflame from the inside out like water hitting an exposed circuit. You clutched at your chest with the sudden spark of horror, the feeling setting your heart off pace.

_ Gabe.  _

It was hazy, lost to the tranquilizer shoved into your shoulder when you kicked, hell, when you  _ screamed _ . But no one heard, lost to the bullet in between their eyes as you sat there, listening. You sat there, letting them die for nothing, letting them die for your failure and getting caught by another Terrorist organization prepared to make you into a weapon.

At least Talon had the decency to let you kill Jack Morrison.

The weight of the events leading up to now hit you too hard, so hard you could hear your heartbeat speed on up on the monitor monitoring your condition. You looked over at the loud machine, reaching down your hospital gown to rip off the stickers on your skin. It hurt, yes, but it didn’t even compare to the difficulties of breathing in your throat, the memory of Gabe collapsing in on himself and saying-

_ I love you.  _

You swallowed roughly, pausing before throwing your legs off of your bed. Your eyes closed, and you frowned, sucking in the sobs that threatened to pour out of your chest. It hurt… It hurt so bad. You let those men die, cowering in your room from fear and the want to live, the need to kill Jack Morrison and-

You failed them. 

You failed Gabe. 

You opened your eyes, blinking back the tears with a deep breath. You couldn’t go back… No, your powers weren’t that developed. Maybe one day...but not today. But today...today you could do one thing.

_ Kill them all.  _

They killed who knows how many… They were Talon, yes...the very organization that tortured their prisoners and condoned raping prisoners. But these people...they killed people you knew... _ good people.  _ And Gabe-

_ I love you.  _

You would kill them all, and you would find him. You could always find him if you bit your lip hard enough and stretched your fingers far enough. He would find you if you couldn’t do the same…

_ I love you.  _

He had to…

Right?

You couldn’t focus on that. You had to focus on the now, and so you took a deep breath as the tips of your toes touched the cool floor. It was startling against your flushed skin, sweaty with fear and adrenaline. Your breath hitched and you flinched before laughing at yourself. 

You’d survived a Terrorist attack, torture and suicide...and you couldn’t handle a simple, cold floor? Maybe it was what came after standing up, what came after walking out of this white room surrounded by medical supplies was what scared you. Maybe what you became after exiting this room scared you.

Maybe becoming what you once promised yourself you would never be was what scared you. But you pushed that thought aside, trying to ignore how it made you pause and listen to your heartbeat.

It felt as though it were yesterday when you were waking up to Justice’s stinky morning breath, soft blankets tucked tight around your body as you hit snooze one too many times. You had tangled hair, not lost to the bathroom floor just quite yet. And your brain was okay…not okay, but not like how it was now.

And that was okay.

Now your mouth become sticky with saliva at the thought of another dose, lost in what had been taken from you. You’d had a plan; train, go on missions, get intel, and kill Jack Morrison. The torture you’d endured to get into Talon’s ranks meant nothing, no… It was left underneath Reaper’s dying body as he told you he loved you.

If he’d just looked up.

Your throat hurt, and you swallowed roughly, taking a deep breath as you closed your eyes. You had to get out of here… You couldn’t give up now, not after everything you’d done. You had to get out of here, and find Jack Morrison. You had to kill him, and if you had to kill others to get to him, so be it. He had killed hundreds, including your friends. A little blood would never compare to the amount he spilled...right?

Right?

You stretched your fingers experimentally, pulling on the hum only to find-

_ It wasn’t there. _

You stopped completely, casting a wide eyed look at your hands, stretching them out in front of you. There was no electricity crackling between your fingers, no slight glow to your veins. There was no soft song found in the walls, no immense power found underneath your feet and coursing through your veins. 

There was nothing.

Now, there was plenty of electricity around you, which you assumed was what the hum found its origin from. You’d often found the hum in the lights, in the cords that gave the facility power. But then again...you were no longer in Talon’s palm.

You were in Overwatch’s, and the people whom had found you had experienced your power first hand. They’d seen you glow brighter than anyone before, seen you tear the universe to shreds with just one, little movement. They’d seen the closest thing to a star, to a being blessed with unholy power. They’d seen the universe stretched around them, contorted and twisted to an unrecognizable state.

They shouldn’t have survived, but they did… Yet another failure to haunt you in your dreams. 

But there was one other source of power you could draw from, although a bit more dangerous than mere electricity; your core. Every core possessed a hum, a song woven through each step taken on the Earth, each breath stolen from the atmosphere, each blink with such blind eyes. But drawing directly from your core was dangerous, something that would exhaust you quickly and possibly even kill you. 

You shouldn’t have survived your encounter with the cowboy man, and his friends. You shouldn’t be alive, yet you were. Who knows how many more second chances you would be granted by an unseeing hand you fed straight out of?

That meant that drawing directly from your core was only allowable in dire situations, situations that meant nothing other than failure. Your core’s hum would possibly kill you if you drew too much from it, and that would be unacceptable. Jack Morrison would live, not paying for the crimes he committed. 

You needed to survive.

With a deep breath, you stood up, ignoring how cold the floor was against your skin. You ignored how your head pounded as you shakily stepped towards the door, planting your hands on either side of it. You ignored how your stomach churned, how your breaths hurt and-

You opened the door.

A hallway. You poked your head out, looking left and right for signs of life. Obviously, people were here...wherever ‘here’ was. But no one was in sight, a fact that reassured you as you entered the hallway and exited the room you’d been in, closing the door silently behind you. Doors lined the hallway on both walls, and as you narrowed your eyes, you realized you overlooked one important fact; each room had glass walls. 

Hiding from people would be difficult in this area, and turning your eyes to the ceiling, you saw cameras monitoring your every move. If someone was watching, they’d realize you were awake, and on the move. That meant you had to be quick, but silent enough to not raise anyone’s attention.

You wished for your powers. You could easily overload the cameras by cutting off the hum to it, and you could survey the area, see if you could see other people. Sensing and gaining ability to access someone’s core required a certain range, and one that you weren’t in from the looks of it. 

So you moved....crouching down in hopes it would help you remain silent. You could either turn left or right, so you chose right, not seeing anyone occupying the glass rooms. 

Even with no one in the rooms, you felt too vulnerable in the hallway, which was open and wide. Nothing was in your way, no carts to hide behind or anything. While it was vacant, that didn’t mean someone was at the end of the hallway, which quickly appeared in your sights. It veered left, which defeated the purpose of options as you approached it. 

You pressed yourself against the wall at the end of the hallway, quickly peaking around the corner. The walls veered left before spilling into a large room. You furrowed your eyebrows, poking your head out further for a better view.

The large room had a desk with a number of screens up against a wall. Various information flickered across the screens, followed by pictures of people and- Your breath hitched, and you felt your mouth go dry.

You saw him… You would recognize those damn blue eyes anywhere, especially after they peered into yours with the quick pull of a trigger. They’d sentenced you to something much worse than death; a world you no longer knew, but knew you all too well. Overwatch was working with Jack Morrison, and if the picture on those screens connected to a large laptop meant anything, you could have access to information right at the tips of your fingers. 

There was another large glass wall, however, with glass doors leading into another hallway. This was clearly the medical center of Overwatch, so why was no one here? You’d rather have someone here and watch them leave, as opposed to now. You had no idea of when the doctor would return, or whomever was watching over you. 

Which meant you had to move…  _ now.  _

You ditched the previous plan of stealth, and sprinted over to the  computer. Your bare feet thankfully didn’t make a lot of noise, and the little training you’d attended made your breathing steady. The only giveaway was you running, which was surely a sight to whomever was watching at security. 

The room the medical rooms lead to had a waiting area with plenty of plants. The desk was separated from the waiting room with another glass room, yet when you pulled open the door into the office area, the glass walls suddenly turned cloudy, blocking all vision of what was happening inside.

This was both a blessing and a curse, although more of a blessing to the doctor when they needed to work on confidential matters. You swore under your breath, realizing that when they returned they’d see someone was in their office due to the walls of their office. You had to be quick, so you quickly rushed over to the computer only to see it was locked. 

“Fuck!” you hissed, smashing your hands on the desk around the keyboard. Papers went flying, but you didn’t care. You didn’t care if they found you in here, nor if they realized you’d trashed the place. You only cared about finding and killing Jack Morrison, and if that meant playing dirty, so be it.

With a growl, you placed your hands on the desk and thought. The doctor would be returning shortly. It only made sense considering the trouble they went through to find you. They would only leave for a short period of time in case you woke up. It was just your luck that you woke up in this short amount of time, which meant you had to get a plan underway  _ now _ .

You needed that password, and you needed information on where to find Jack Morrison. 

Which provided you one option…

Take a hostage.

The only one who would know the password would be the doctor, whom would be returning shortly with the misled belief you were still asleep. This gave you an advantage; the element of surprise. If there was one thing you knew about taking hostages, it was you had to be quick, ruthless and smart. Gabe had taught you to be quick, and you were smart on your own.

Ruthless?

Your eyes narrowed, hands twitching at memories of lives squished in your palms and necks around your arms. 

You could be. 

Would you though?

You narrowed your eyes, looking around the office for an appropriate hiding spot. There were no hiding spots that would provide you enough cover to act on the doctor in surprise. This forced you in the hallway, and as you stepped out, your suspicions about the office’s walls becoming blurred when occupied were confirmed. It was a good idea to be out of it, then, to reduce any risk of compromise. 

The hallway was empty besides the entrance to what you assumed was the waiting area. There was a door leading out into the other room, with a white couch against the wall and the door to the side. It still wouldn’t provide enough cover, and so you quickly walked over to the curve of the hallway you had just come from. The curve would conceal you well enough until you saw the office turn blurry. Then…

Then it was all on you. 

You crouched down, trying to ignore how sore you were. You hadn’t even physically fought, only using your powers to strike back against the terrorists. Never before had you hurt like this, and you tried to ignore how squatting made white stars flicker in your vision. You pressed a hand against the wall, closing your eyes with practiced, deep breaths.

You were okay. You would be okay. All you had to do was get the information on Jack Morrison, and get out of here. From then on, you would… You would…

You would what? You had no money, an infamous face gone missing after a massacre at the hospital you’d been escorted to, and a power so dangerous your very being could be extorted for money. You were addicted to some drug, severely depressed and-

Just some girl.

You opened your eyes, seeing that the office was blurry. Your heart thud harshly in your chest, and you swallowed away your fear, your insecurities. 

Not just some girl.

The girl who could control the universe.

With a soft grunt, you pressed your hands flat against the wall and pulled yourself up to your feet. It hurt...it hurt badly, but once you were on your feet, you pushed aside the darkness in the edges of your vision and breathed in relief. Now...now you’d have to take the doctor hostage and get that password.

Padding softly towards the door, you tried to peer in and get a visual on the doctor. Were they tall and strong, or small and timid? Hopefully, they were small. Your body was built up from the training, but tall and strong Terrorists were not something you’d like to go up against. 

Quietly, you pulled open the door, and saw a woman bent over the desk, typing furiously. She had bright blonde hair, and wore a labcoat. Your eyes opened in surprise, a small noise coming from your mouth. That was enough to get her attention, and she turned around with a jerk. 

For a moment, the two of you merely stared at each other, both eyes wide and mouths wide open. She looked at your legs, then at your arms and then- She reached into her pocket, pulled out a red button, and pressed it.

Fuck.

So much for taking her hostage.

You narrowed your eyes, flexing your fingers. You may not be able to draw energy from her core, but Gabe taught you to do better than that. 

“You really shouldn’t have done that,” you whispered, and she got in a fighting position, surprising you even then. Was she really about to fight you? You chuckled as her eyebrows pulled down, both in preparation for the inevitable brawl and ...worry? You snickered, cracking your neck. “Scared you’ll hurt your pretty little merchandise?” you hissed, and her eyes widened in shock, posture loosening in terms of intensity. 

“Merchandise?” she asked, voice laced with an accent of European descent. Deep in the twisted insides of your chest, you were glad to hear that not everything changed. People were still the same, blood still red and-

“Sorry,” you hissed before jumping at her. She reacted well, dodging to the side. But your goal wasn’t to hit her. No...your goal was to get close to her.

And then you felt it...the familiar tug at the edges of your body and on the outline of your mind. It was warm, soothing and healing as you reached for it, standing up tall as you flexed your fingers. The doctor clearly felt you latch onto her core, and she stumble backwards, losing position as she felt her very essence be drained from her. You smiled, feeling the hum rush through your veins like the drug.

“No harsh feelings,” you whispered before lifting your hand, clenching it into a fist and-

Nothing. Your head hit the floor when a sudden force hit you from the side, knocking you against the doctor’s desk first and then the ground. Stars flickered in your vision as you groaned, the hum gone as quickly as it came. You felt empty as it retreated to the fuzzy edges of whatever drug they pumped into you.

There was a ringing in your ear as you groaned, pressing a hand to your temple. Your head was pounding, a sharp sting on the left side of your head as you reached up. When you pulled your fingers away, they were red with blood, and behind them, a blurry figure with a hand on the woman’s shoulder. 

You groaned again, pressing your palms to the ground as you pushed yourself up. But as soon as you put force on your hand, you collapsed with a gasp, body stretched thin. Your heartbeat was hard in your chest, your veins burning with the lack of the hum singing to them. And your vision was flickering, closing quickly…

And then the woman was in front of you, pressing a hand to the side of your neck. All pain dispersed until returning all at once. It felt as though fire was being poured into your veins, replacing the soft, cool effect the hum had often caused when you flexed your fingers. A scream ripped itself from your throat as you thrust your hands forward, shoving the woman back. She bounced back with a soft gasp, until boots stormed up to you.

You were blinded by pain until hands wrapped around your collar, familiar hands and-

A blue and black facemask? A red visor?

Who...was he?

You furrowed your eyebrows as you tried to breathe, and you could feel his anger. It was evident in the way he stood, the way he held you off of the ground. You giggled as he glared at you, your body hissing with the steam the fire had burnt into you. “Kill me,” you whispered, and the man visibly recoiled, surprised by your words. His grip loosened, and you smile tiredly, feeling all fight leave you with each breath.

You could feel the universe tugging at your feet, trying to pull it back into its embrace you felt so many years ago. It was warm, grasp on you familiar and soothing with a song you only heard from-

“Please,” you gasped out, eyes fluttering. It was so warm as it wrapped around you, all pain sinking with your consciousness. The stars stretched beyond your eyes, and you smiled, body suddenly picked up in arms and against a warm chest. You sighed, no longer caring about your vessel. The universe would pick the glow from your veins, and ignite your core, warming planets for billions of years in the form of a star.

“In here,” the woman’s voice said, and something slapped your cheek. You stirred, not even noticing you were drifting off. The red visor peered back at you, white eyebrow furrowed underneath its tint. That scowl reminded you of Gabe, the way he frowned behind closed doors, the way he frowned when you rubbed at his scars, the way you kissed him and he-

“Gabe,” you murmured, and the man’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. He looked over his shoulder, back at someone in shock. You just sighed, closing your eyes. “I miss you.”

There was no reply.

 

Holy fuck you had to pee.

You had to pee so badly you woke up from the bliss of sleep already pissed off at the world. Fuck this world...you didn’t even care that they reduced carbon emissions right then there. Yes you did, but you told yourself otherwise as you blearily opened your eyes to reveal a bright light and-

_ White tiles. _

Your full bladder was quickly lost to the panic of waking up in the room, Widowmaker surely watching you from the sidelines with that goddamn awful smirk she always had. His body would be in front of you, dead from you, from your mind, from your very existence that killed not just him, but everyone you love. And Gabe would be dead...no worse, he would forget you.

_ A quick fuck.  _

And the blankets are tight around your throat and you can’t breathe and-

A loud beep, a hand on your shoulder and-

A woman.

No... _ the  _ woman. 

The woman from before...when you woke up and tried to escape. Thinking back, you should’ve just run, come back for the information with Talon on your side. They’d promised you information for helping them, after all.

But then again...when did Talon keep promises?

The woman stared at you in concern before looking up at your vitals, lips thin with worry and eyebrows furrowed in thought. Your breathing was slowing down now to an acceptable pace, one that didn’t make your vision go black at the sides. After a moment, she sighed, pulling back with a small smile on her face. 

“Feeling better?” she asked, voice surprisingly soothing. You looked at her with confused and cautious eyes, drawing away from the hand on your shoulder. She noticed your discomfort and quickly retreated, smiling in apology. “Ah...sorry,” she apologized and you nodded, swallowing the remnants of fear that were bitter on your tongue. 

“Water,” you bit out, surprised by how dry your mouth was. The woman nodded, getting to her feet and exiting the room in a few, swift strides. She really was beautiful with a well built body, bright blue eyes and blonde hair. She was the epitome of beauty, but Widowmaker was beautiful in her own twisted sense as well. You knew better than to trust anyone, and in the moments she was gone, you took in your surroundings.

You were in bright, white hospital room. Nothing stood out about it, until you looked to your side and saw plenty of holographic monitors watching over your system. There was even one monitoring your brain waves, and you reached up to prod your temples, only to notice there were no wires attached to your system like there would be in 2016. 

Wow...technology was cool.

The woman returned with a soft knock at the door so not to startle you, although you did jump. Another apologetic smile was tossed your way as she approached you with a plastic cup in her hand. She handed you the cup, and you took it in your grasp, casting it a suspicious look. Was it poisoned, drugged even? At Talon, you were too high to care about what they fed you as long as it filled your stomach. Hunger was one more pang, but compared to the treatment you received in the cells, you didn’t really care.

Would Overwatch give you the same treatment? 

The woman gave you an earnest look. “It’s not poisoned. It’s just water,” she told you, and you gave her a long, wary look before lifting the cup to your lips, swallowing the cool liquid. It felt heavenly on your dry throat, and you quickly gulped it down. When you finally returned the cup, the woman seemed pleased. “I’m glad to see you’re better,” she said before taking the cup and tossing it in a wastebasket near your bed.

You watched her every move carefully, not sure if you could trust her. After all...she had hurt you in ways Talon never had. She’d burned you from the inside out, a brilliant wildfire only put out by the cold embrace of death. You’d happily fallen into those arms, but now you were here…

“Your condition was unstable after such excessive use of your powers,” she began, pulling up a chair that was against the wall. She sat next to your, close to be able to look at you directly in the eyes but far enough to not scare you.

You hated being treated like a scared child.

“When our agents first found you, you were resisting. Your powers were…” she looked down, expression clearly fluctuating between scared, impressed and a combination of the two. “Extraordinary,” she finished. You felt flattered, but also dead inside, so you didn’t react. “Your display of power was extremely effective although...dangerous, to not just you, but others,” she said, and you rolled your eyes, scoffing.

“That was the point,” you hissed, and she frowned.

“Why attack us?” she asked, and you gave her a long look. 

“You’re...kidding right? Because don’t joke like that when I gotta pee,” you said, and she furrowed her eyebrows again, mouth open when you interrupted her. “You guys are fucking Terrorists. What do you expect when you come in, gun down innocents and waltz in my room like nothing’s fucking wrong with it?” you growled, and if your powers weren’t burned out and your veins didn’t throb, you knew you would be glowing with anger. 

The woman seemed floored, eyes wide and mouth wide open as you stared at her. Finally, she closed her mouth, swallowed and tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. She placed her hands on her crossed knees, and took a deep breath. “(Y/N)...I don’t know what Talon did to you, or what they told you. But Overwatch...Overwatch is not a terrorist group,” she said, voice soft. You furrowed your eyebrows, not believing her. And she noticed. “Talon has killed an estimated hundred thousand people over the year, and assassinated over a dozen high ranking officials,” she said, and you weren’t surprised. But Overwatch had killed innocents to get to you...good people. “Tell me...what do you owe Talon?” she asked you finally, and you opened your mouth, ready to answer when no answer came.

_ They tortured me, drugged me to keep me in their control, forced me to kill a man, and pushed me to suicide.  _

You didn’t say that… No… Instead you looked at your legs, opening your mouth again only to stop. 

What  _ did  _ you owe Talon? You remembered Lesedi and Hoshi, how they watched over you like older sister and old friends. You remembered Sombra, and how she pushed you so damn far only to bring you back with a smile. And most importantly…

“Gabe,” you whispered, and the woman tried her hardest to not show her surprise. But you knew how to read her… If you didn’t know how to read people, you would be gutted by others, taken advantage of for being weak, being stupid and-

“Who is...this...Gabe?” she asked, and you tensed at the mention of him, fist clenching. She noticed and immediately changed the subject, clearing her throat. “Ah...nevermind... Let’s return to your powers,” she said with a nervous smile. You nodded, calming down. She had a point, but it was hard to admit it. It was hard to forget all that anger, all the pain and the few goods among all the bad. 

“After your incredible display of raw power, we were unable to-”

You stopped her. “Unable to what?” you asked, not understanding what she was saying. The woman’s eyes widened at your interruption, and stuttered for a moment before throwing your hand in front of you, eyes on hers. “ _ Unable to-” _

And that’s when you noticed it… No, how could you have not noticed? There was nothing wrong when you woke up which meant….the usage of your powers in an attempt to subdue the woman did this. 

_ You did this.  _

Your hands...no...those weren’t your hands. They were metal, coated with a shiny substance that was certainly  _ not flesh.  _ Your breath caught in your throat at the sight, and you raised your hands to your face. Nothing felt different...no, everything felt as usual. Everything felt  _ normal.  _

“After your attempt of escape, I tried to heal you as you drained your own personal reserve of power. Doing this caused extreme and intense degeneration, and damaged the pathway of your powers to this world,” the woman said quietly, and you shook your head, breathing hitching with a sob. You were shaking, eyes hot with tears not yet dropping.

_ You did this.  _

“I’m sorry… I had to amputate your hands.”

_ You did this.  _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well, i hope you enjoyed this chapter! it was tough to write, and the next chapter will be much more fun!  
> if you enjoyed the story,  
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> tell me your thoughts, your feelings about this story!  
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> http://miss-nebula-and-a-side-of-tea.tumblr.com/


	15. Overwatch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Decisions, and revelations.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi everyone! this chapter was a lot of fun to write, and i explored a lot of my writing style in this chapter, so i hope you guys like it! it's a very big chapter for the reader, and establishes a lot of information. it also explores what the reader is feeling, and how youre coping with both the loss of your hands, and the massacre.  
> i also tackle a lot of controversial topics in this chapter, such as islamophobia, donald dump, and white supremacy. these core ideas of hatred and bigotry and the impacts they have on people are very important to the story, and the story explores what humanity is, and how to survive and what that entails.  
> that being said, this will probably be the last SERIOUS update for the next 3 weeks. im going on vacation (yay!) so i may write a little then, but dont count on it. but i do plan to try and get a little snippet out of fun little encounters with reader and various characters next week. it'll be short, but i hope it'll be fun enough for you guys~!  
> it gets a bit tiring writing such serious angsty stuff all the time, so making it goofy is fun for both you AND me~! (and miss nebula, my beautiful beta reader and frend <3 )  
> that being said,  
> here are the TRIGGER WARNINGS for this chapter:  
> islamophobia  
> white supremacy  
> donald asshat trump (i hate him. im not ashamed of it)  
> topics covering drug addiction, suicide and suicidal thoughts  
> violence  
> needles  
> id also like to take a moment to thank the WONDERFUL miss nebula for being a great frend and a great beta reader. she's always willing to talk to me about my story, and help me through with the planning that comes with it. (believe it or not im just finalizing the real plot for the story JEESH!)  
> heres her tumblr and AO3 for you to look at!:  
> http://miss-nebula-and-a-side-of-tea.tumblr.com/  
> http://archiveofourown.org/users/wake_me_when_it_updates/pseuds/wake_me_when_it_updates  
> GO LOOK AT HER STUFF~! SHES GREAT I LOVE HER  
> so~~~  
> without further ado,  
> ENJOY~~~~

It was hard at first. No...scratch that.

It’s still hard.

It was hard from when you saw not the familiar sight of your flesh in where your hands should be, until you screamed at the top of your lungs and lost yourself in the soft doze of the sedative the doctor shoved into your I.V, to when you woke up to the soft glow from the hallways outside your room. 

It was hard.

It was harder than hard, and you sniffled as you blinked away the familiar sensation of sleep in your eyes. There was the soft thud of your heartbeat to the side, a repetitive sound that seemed to ground you in reality. There was no hum, no familiar tug at your soul as you lay there, watching the woman talk to a man in the hallway.

His back was towards you, and you watched the woman’s expressions change vividly every other moment. She was worried for a moment, then angry and then- Sad. She was sad. You could relate, but you simply closed your eyes.

The woman had tried to explain to you she’d attempted to save your arms, tried to ‘heal’ you in loose terms you didn’t understand. There were new words, new science that could piece back together a person even when little remained. But your powers...your burnt veins reacted negatively to the science, to her own personal magic. 

And that’s what burnt you from the inside out, the hum reacting harshly against its flow and kiss. The remnants that stuck underneath your skin sparked at its invasion, fighting back as though it were a poison. She had seemed sincere in her apologies, but you knew it was not her fault. She had tried to save you, to stop you from destroying yourself.

And now...now you’d really done it.

You’d finally achieved what you had never done; destroyed your body beyond repair.

Sure, the cybernetics replaced what you lost physically, but not mentally.

“It’s normal to grieve,” she’d said, voice soft and low as she pressed her hand against your wrist. She’d been careful to not touch your hands, fingers upon flesh and not metal. You hadn’t looked at her, tears dripping quietly but steadily.

It felt like rain in sunny days, the soft heat that clung to your skin as you smelled the water clinging to grass underneath your feet. Back when things were okay…

Better than now.

“We can help,” she’d whispered, and you’d looked at her then, right in her eyes. She looked at you as though you were a loose wire, dangerous and deadly with just a single touch. You could electrocute them all, set their base ablaze and be okay in the end. 

But you wouldn’t. 

You’d cried looking at her, face twisting up ugly and snotty as you’d let out a sob. She’d pressed a hand to your shoulder, and you’d wheeled back with a wheeze, unable to breathe. She was beautiful...like Widowmaker. Her fingers were cold on your bare skin, like Widowmaker’s. And her voice was Widowmaker’s.

She was Widowmaker.

You didn’t remember much after that as you lay there, groggily watching her speak to the man. There was screaming, blood on your tongue and a prick in your skin as you’d ripped out the I.V. Blood had splattered, and you’d grabbed the needle in your hand and stabbed and-

You moved your hand into your view, looking at how the dim lights shone off of its surface. You wondered if you could call it your skin, or was it referred to as your metal, your base? Your armor? It felt odd to think of yourself as a robot, something much more indestructible than humans.

But then again...maybe with a cut here and there, you really were a loose wire.

The thought made you snicker, and you lifted your other hand to feel the metal before remembering… You frowned at that, swallowing the sudden lump in your throat that wasn’t there a moment ago.

That’s when he turned towards you, eyes hidden behind something that looked straight out of Robocop. You looked at him past your hand, lowering it slightly. The woman also looked at you from behind him, a sad look on her face. 

She eventually put a hand on his shoulder, garnering his attention for a moment before she walked past him and into your room. “I see you’re awake,” she said with a soft smile on her face. She grabbed some weird metal thing, tapping something that made it suddenly glow brightly. Holographic...It would be fascinating if you weren’t preoccupied with the obvious. 

You didn’t say anything as your hand dropped to your side. You merely stared at the man, not caring that you were being odd. He stared back at you, eyebrows furrowed behind his odd choice of glasses. 

“How are you feeling?” the woman asked you as she scrolled, and you didn’t look at her. You only looked at the man, swallowing harshly. He crossed his arms, and he looked so much like…

“He reminds me of Gabe,” you whispered, almost to yourself. The woman stopped, and you finally spared her a look. Her eyes were wide, finger hovering over the hologram. You furrowed your eyebrows, looking down before returning your eyes to the man.

But he was gone.

“Ah…” The woman followed your gaze only to see what you saw. She cleared her throat, clearly regaining her composure as she continued to scroll through what you assumed was your information. “He does that sometimes,” she said, answering your thoughts. You frowned in response before looking back to her. She caught your gaze, and smiled before her expression changing to awe. “Ah! Yes, I’ve been forgetting,” she said, pulling up a chair and sitting a considerable distance away. She knew better than to touch you again.

“I have not yet introduced myself. I apologize,” she said, and you didn’t blame her. Between you trying to kill her for information on Jack Morrison and telling you you caused your hands to be removed, there hadn’t been a lot of time for pleasantries. “My name is Angela Zeigler,” she said, smiling at you brightly. There was some tug at your chest, and you knew she was trying to make you feel comfortable, feel okay. But instead you turned your eyes away. 

Her smile faltered.

You felt bad. 

She cleared her throat, shifting slightly in an obvious movement of discomfort. “I’m the head doctor here at Overwatch, an organization committed to spreading peace throughout the world,” she said, and you furrowed your eyebrows, chewing on your lips at the new information on Overwatch. At Talon, the only times Overwatch was referred to was in sentences including “scum”, “assholes” and “Terrorist”. And now here you were in their base, being tended to by their doctor and under intense surveillance. Although one thing was for certain...so far, they’d treated you better than you  _ ever  _ had been at Talon, even after becoming an official soldier.

At that thought, you remembered Gabe’s fingers ghosting over you identification mark, and you looked down at your wrist, seeing the barcode and number still on your skin. Even with Overwatch’s permanent mark on your body, Talon was still here, a piece of you from now on until the end of history

Were you theirs?

You frowned, swallowing roughly before looking back up to the docto-Angela’s eyes. She was watching you with subtle curiosity, and smile softly at you when she saw she had your attention. “I understand how difficult it must be to be in the den of what Talon told you was your enemy’s, but we’re not your enemy. We’re here to help you,” she whispered, and you averted your eyes again, something heavy in your chest. You knew she was right about Talon...they were ruthless, dangerous and hellbent on whatever cause they had. They were the ones who had tortured you, the ones who had drugged you and massacred an entire hospital just to get their hands around your powers.

But they had promised you one thing in return for your services…

And that was Jack Morrison’s life. 

You clenched your jaw, clenching your now metal hands into fists. You wanted the hum to wrap itself around your skin, to flow through your veins and reassure you of your power, of your strength and beauty. You wanted Gabe to look at you, even if it was under his mask, the same way he always did; with something that reformed even when different cells made up his decomposing body. 

Angela seemed to sense your unease, and sighed before nodding, almost to herself. You looked back at her with surprise when she stood up, offering you her hand. “I wish to show you something,” she said, and you looked at her hand and then to the hallway, almost expecting the man from before to be standing there. But it was empty.

Finally, you spoke. 

“What is it?”

 

The air felt strange around your new hands, almost as though it were removed from the rest of your body. You could feel the change in temperature on your exposed skin, as you were only clad in cotton shorts and a loose t shirt that said “World’s Best Dad”. When Angela had found it in their lost and found, she’d looked apologetic, but it had brought a small smile to your face.

Angela considered that a small victory, taking as many as she could get.

In the shorts, you’d felt ashamed and embarrassed at the body hair your legs had, and the hair underneath your arms when you’d changed with your back to Angela. She hadn’t been watching you as you slowly changed, slowly moving so to not aggravate your bruises and scratches. And when she turned to see your frustration and shame, she’d offered another smile. “No one cares, (Y/N). We only care about your safety, and your health.” 

You didn’t believe her, but instead bit down on your lip, crossing your arms. The metal glinted underneath the lights the two of you slowly walked under, catching your eyes more than you wanted.The harsh reminder that you were no longer entirely human walked behind you close enough already, but constantly seeing the new change had it practically walking right behind you.

The med bay was empty as Angela escorted you through the hallways, and eventually in the waiting area. It was mostly white as well, the lack of color making your throat dry and legs shake. Angela noticed, but didn’t say anything, but did speak when she saw your lingering gaze on her office. “Why did you attack?” she asked, a question very blunt but with her voice seeming much more curious and inquisitive than it was.

You swallowed, returning your eyes to your feet. You really needed to cut your nails. “I saw him,” you whispered, voice cracking, prompting you to clear your throat. 

Now that got her attention, and she stuttered in her footsteps. But you didn’t stop, and she caught up. “Saw who?” she recovered smoothly, and you looked over your shoulder at her. She was looking at you with poorly hidden curiosity, and you scowled again, remembering the man’s startlingly blue eyes, the way the metal felt against your forehead, the smell of urine and blood in the air and-

You breathed in, and then out. “Jack Morrison,” you whispered, and she looked away. Your hands were shaking, and you swallowed, hiding them behind your back. “Can...can we get going, please?” you asked, and Angela nodded, quickly walking over and opening the door with a keycard. So...you couldn’t have gotten out anyways in your escape attempt…

Your loss of hands was for nothing.

“Of course,” she said. 

You tried not to think about it.

The Overwatch base was huge, hallways wide and littered with impressive technology. Some walls had aquariums, while others had gardens and whatnot. There were some holograms of rain falling, and various nature scenes as well, but what caught your attention was where you were walking. The tile felt cold on your feet, but your hands were not the same as they hung at your thighs, neglected in terms of touch for obvious reasons. Angela walked with no signs of discomfort, which made sense as this was her base, where she spent large portions of her time.

But you...you had no idea where you were. 

Suddenly, the wall on your right turned right and revealed an elevator. Angela noticed your gaze, and gestured towards it. “We have three floors- The upstairs is where everyone sleep, the main floor is where we are, and the lower levels,” she explained and you nodded, not wanting to discuss it further at the moment. You didn’t think you would spend much time here, planning on getting the information they had on Jack Morrison, and tracking the man down, with or without their help.

If Overwatch was as good as they seemed, they wouldn’t support your revenge. You wondered when your want to be with good people changed, and you decided it was when you changed. 

Maybe it was when your fingers wrapped around the key found in a dead person’s pocket, or maybe when you felt the metal of a gun against your forehead promising nothing but an end, instead opening up nothing but pointless beginnings. No...maybe it was when toothpicks were shoved underneath your fingernails, or maybe when your head was held under water and you had to kill to save your own life.

Maybe it was when you felt Gabe’s lips on yours for the first time, fingers ghosting dangerously near a sin that you couldn’t find yourself to give. You could give your blood, give your soul, but not your sin.

It was all you had now. 

“And where are we going?” you found yourself asking, found underneath your feet as you stepped further and further from what you needed; freedom. Did you dare let yourself get involved in Overwatch’s affairs, get to know the names behind the fingers on guns? Or did you fight, get your feet on grass and not on tile?

You continued walking. 

“I’d like to show you something,” Angela said, not providing any more information or answers. You hummed in response, not showing your suspicions. Was she taking you to a white room where water would drip onto you, slowly but methodically? You watched her out of the corner of your eye. Was she?

No. She wasn’t. That was established when she quickly stepped in front of you, directing you towards a door you hadn’t even noticed on your right. You frowned at first, looking at her in confusion until she offered a soft smile. “Go inside. It’s fine,” she said, and you reached forward, hesitating to take hold of the handle with your metal hand. Fuck it. You did, pushing open the door to reveal-

Darkness. Just...darkness. Nothing but shadows, and your eyebrows furrowed and your lips turned down into a small frown. You opened your mouth, ready to turn around and ask what the deal was when Angela spoke. “Athena, display all files under ‘(Last Name, First Name)’.”

You had no idea who Athena was other than the goddess in Greek mythology, and thought that Overwatch had the power to call down a god when dozens of screens lit up along a wall in front of you. At first, it had an odd logo, until each screen flickered with different documents, different articles and different...pictures?

Pictures of you.

Your eyes widened, heart fluttering in your tight chest as you instinctively took a step forward. The air was suddenly much cooler around your skin as a sweat broke out on your skin, looking at each screen in awe. There was one picture of you from middle school, an awkward grin on your awkward face. It made some sort of strained laugh come from your throat as you reached for you face, almost as though you were trying to go back to that photo day, to tell yourself to stay home, to do better in school and…

And there were other pictures that caught your eye, and you looked over to them. There were pictures of you at your birthday last year, or...59 years ago. The thought made the small smile on your face fall, your metal fingers falling to your side as metal brushed against your thigh. There were smiles on your face back then, however force they may be, they were smiles on a face of yours not yet exposed to the horrors of people. 

And then… You frowned, walking over to another monitor that caught your attention. It was an HD traffic cam, and you would be happy for better Traffic Cam quality if the picture itself didn’t startle you. The computer almost seemed to notice your attention, and zoomed in on…

“Gabe,” you breathed out, eyes widening as your fingers pressed against the unmistakable black uniform he insisted on wearing to please his “edgy” persona. And he was carrying something, wait no... _ someone.  _

“That’s you,” Angela said from behind you, voice making you jump. You looked back at her with a confused look on your face, and she nodded back towards the picture. Your eyes followed her gesture and...she was right. He was carrying  _ you _ . “Only hours after you being recovered from seemingly the dead, Talon launched a high-risk operation to obtain possession of you. They killed hundreds of innocent civilians to reach you,” she said, and the smell of blood and the sound of bullets being fired came back all too vividly. Your hand, now shaking, dropped from the screen, and you blinked, trying to swallow the tears you felt on the edge of your throat. 

“It’s my fault...isn’t it?” you whispered, looking at the red patches on Gabe’s uniform. The harsh reminder of what the man you lo-cared for did left you breathless, aching not just in your chest, but everywhere. You never had forgiven him for what he had done, and you knew he hadn’t either. He’d never forgiven himself, and you assumed he never would. Just like all the other agents at Talon, he was addicted to the needle, to the rush of endorphins and chemicals that eased the pain of his existence, both in physical and mental means. But unlike them, he would die without it.

“No,” Angela said, breathless on surprise. But you were breathless among other things; such as the bodies that were left littered behind your unconscious body, Lucy’s bullet ridden skull preventing an open-casket funeral, and-

“Don’t lie to me,” you whispered, turning to face Angela with an unreadable expression. She looked back at you, an incredulous look on her face. “If I had died back at the outlet mall, none of this would have happened,” you hissed, metal hands clenching into fists at you side. Angela’s face contorted into one of sadness, but you turned back to the monitors, back to the bloody Reaper.

You understood Gabe drew a line between his two personas. Reaper was a killer, hellbent on getting revenge on all those who had put him into the constantly decaying vessel called his body. He would kill anyone, kill anything just as long as he got his money, but more importantly, his fix. 

And Gabe… The same man who had kissed every stretch mark, every scar was the one who put on the mask. But it was not Gabe who pulled the trigger, but Reaper. Gabe needed to survive, while Reaper took joy in the sins he committed while surviving. 

You closed your eyes with a deep breath, swallowing down the words you wanted to say. You wanted to turn around, and scream, smash every monitor that held bits and pieces of you lost in a white room and the splinters under your nails. You wanted to take the glass and slit your wrists, bleed out on the floor beneath your feet and feel the bliss of death, an eternal state of no pain, no anger and no more evil.

No more waking up in a cold sweat, tangled in bedsheets that had been wrapped around your neck. No more need for the needle, no more need to get high and hate yourself after it. No more ache in your bones, no more burn in your veins and finally...finally there would be peace.

You could do all of this. 

Instead, you looked at Angela. “Why did you bring me here?” you asked. 

She looked at you for a long while, pondering on things to say, questions to ask and demands to be made. But instead, she said, “Athena, pull up the ‘Ascendance’ project.” Almost instantly, the monitors flickered black, making your breath hitch and eyes dart around you in hopes of seeing what was happening. As soon as the lights went out, lights came back on, but this time in new pictures and articles on the monitors. 

You frowned freely now, but this time in awe and concentration as you faced the monitors. Before you were pictures of white men wearing bandanas that seemed awfully familiar...eyes the only distinguishable feature as their heads were covered by caps with…

“Are those swastikas?” you breathed out, and the monitor seemed to hear you, zooming in on the recognizable logo on one man’s cap. Angela walked up behind you, but not too close. 

“Yes,” she said, and you shook your head, huffing.

“What...who are these people?” you asked, and you looked at her, her face illuminated by the soft glow of the monitors. Angela looked troubled, and sighed. She didn’t look as though she wanted to tell you. 

“We believe...these are the groups of men who killed you,” she whispered, and you felt ice run through your veins. Your breath caught in your throat, lungs deflated in a way you’d only ever felt when your head was held under water, when you tripped over your dead friend’s corpse, when you’d felt the needle go in your veins and-

You breathed out. 

“When the attack on the outlet mall happened, people thought it was ISIS at first, or another Terrorist group. Blame was thrown to those of Middle Eastern descent because of the tensions at the time,” Angela whispered, voice soft and tender. You snickered at her comment. Tensions had been more than tight at the time. But a White Supremacist group coming after you, a human with the power to kill with just the tightening of your fist? You should be surprised, but you found yourself anything but. 

The images on the monitor shifted to pictures of riots in the streets, and Donald Trump speaking on how they should not allow anyone of Middle Eastern descent into the U.S or those of the Islam religion. The next article was of a registry system tracking all Muslims and Middle Easterners. It made you sick, and you found your stomach turning, anger in your veins. “They didn’t do it though,” you breathed out, hopeless in the face of the legacy you left. Looking around, the monitors showed pictures people marching, signs with your face on it saying ‘JUSTICE’. And then...a picture of a man...a man so familiar and you reached, trying to see him better when you gasped, stepping away as though you’d been burnt. “That man,” you murmured, shaking your head. Your hands were trembling, something that surprised you as they were mere metal. 

This caught Angela’s attention, and she stepped towards you, reaching to touch you but stopping when she remembered your previous reactions to touch. “You recognize him?” she asked, seemingly very amazed. 

You nodded, throat suddenly dry. “Yes...he...he tried to warn me,” you breathed out, blinking away the tears that threatened to spill over onto your face. Your throat hurt, and you took a shaky breath, trying to calm yourself. “He...I thought he was just some fucking creep,” you said, laughing bitterly. You thought back to your words, how naive you were back then, completely blissfully aware of your destiny.  

You would do anything to change it. 

You could feel Angela’s eyes on you, but you couldn’t avert your gaze from the man...in handcuffs. You read articles about how he’d been sentenced to life in prison for kidnapping and murdering you, something so false but only now known. He was so young, an innocent life lost to the bigotry and lack of an open mind. “Tell me he’s out now,” you murmured, and Angela was silent. You closed your eyes, shaking your head in anger. “He should be out now,” you said. There was no disagreement.

It was silent, the hum of the monitors the only sound in the room. You could feel Angela standing behind you, so many questions on her lips but none of them escaping their confines. 

“He came to me a few hours before my friends and I left,” you said, beating her to the punch. “He told me some Neo Nazi group was trying to kill me, to find me,” you whispered, averting your eyes to your bare feet. A week ago, your nails were trimmed, your skin unscarred and unmarred. 

A week ago, you were okay, your friends alive.

And now today, you had metal hands, a drug addiction and-

“I didn’t believe him.” 

No words were exchanged after that. Angela’s silence expressed all her sympathies she could provided, and you accepted. For just a few moments, you let your metal hands hang at your side, your eyes closed in remembrance of the bullets, the blood...oh god,  _ all the blood on your hands.  _ You simply mourned, for the hundreds of lives lost to both hatred from the Nazis and the man called Donald Trump. You mourned the man’s loss of a life outside bars for merely trying to help you, wearing an orange jumpsuit instead of a suit to a wedding, wearing the clothing of fatherhood and simply  _ dirt  _ under his nails, not the fuzzies of his sheets in his cell.

You knew what it was like to be caged, treated as though you were an animal. You knew what it was like to have your life ripped out from underneath you for doing nothing but living, surviving even.

You knew. And so did he.

And after those few moments, you swallowed your tears. You ripped open the place where your heart rest, and put your pain in there. You put your tears, your scars, your suicidal tendencies and shoved them into the small part of your heart. And then you stitched your chest back up, wiping away what spilled and stood tall. Your pain beat with your heart, but at least it did not seep. 

Then you turned to face Angela, eyebrows furrowed. “Where are they?” you asked, and Angela looked surprised at first, before recognizing the bloodlust in your eyes, the need for blood under your nails and staining your clothes. But if she was concerned, she said nothing other than,

“We do not know. We’re tracking them down now that we know you’re alive. The idea that Nazis were behind the massacre was controversial, as many people didn’t want to admit the idea of white supremacy was still prominent in the U.S. But now with your appearance, the once conspiracy theories aren’t conspiracies anymore.” You looked away at that.

“And what of Jack Morrison?” you murmured, and again, she looked surprised. Distraught, even, at the mention of the man responsible for the gun against your head, the blue eyes your last sight of your past life. He may not be responsible for the attack, or the brains behind the massacre, but he was responsible for you being here.

Jack Morrison was responsible for your pain, your torture and more importantly-

The blankets around your neck. 

“We...we haven’t been able to track him down. But once we do...we’ll tell you,” she stuttered out, and you looked back at her, lips thin and body tight with tension. 

“Good…” You took a breath, and looked back towards the monitors. Articles of the executive actions Trump took to target innocent people flickered on them, pictures of the innocent man blamed for your disappearance and pictures of the victims.

You saw pictures of you in sixth grade, pictures of you playing your favorite sport/instrument, pictures of you getting Justice and pictures of your parents holding you at birth.

And pictures of your mom sobbing into your father’s chest. 

You took a deep breath.

“I’ll join Overwatch.” You looked back at Angela, whose eyes were large and complexion pale. “If it means I can kill every last Nazi responsible.”

And you breathed out. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so...what do you all think? haha  
> TELL ME WHAT YOU THINK BY LEAVING A COMMENT!  
> feedback, questions or even just a simple "hey i like this!" is GREAT motivation to an author, and is such a nice thing to wake up to see. its a great way to say 'thanks'~!  
> LEAVE KUDOS!  
> kudos help get this story seen and ranked higher, which gets even more views and kudos! again, its another great way of showing your support for the story.  
> AND THANKS FOR READING AGAIN~!  
> your love for the story helps fuel my love <3  
> HAVE A GREAT DAY/NIGHT~~!  
> <3 <3 <3


	16. Recovery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Before Reader can join Overwatch, Angela has to make sure she's sane.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WOW UP I AM SO SORRY  
> SOOOOO SORRY  
> i know i said i would post a filler to make up for the long wait, but i had a LOT OF SCHOOL TO DO and i was just not feeling this chapter. finally, i sat my ass down and wrote it.  
> there should be one more chapter before the real overwatch shit happens, but trust me, you guys are gonna LOVE IT  
> neb and i have been working SUPER HARD on plotting this   
> speaking of neb, go follow her on tumblr! she is absolutely amazing, and im so happy shes both my beta reader, and a super cool and good friend  
> a link to her blog will be at the final notes :)  
> so, i hope you guys really enjoy this chapter! we get a visit from our favorite lesbian <3 (one of them anyways HAHA)   
> we also touch base on reader and how shes holding up. as its always been, her mentality (your mentality, anyways) has been extremely important in this story.   
> so, here are some trigger warnings  
> TRIGGER WARNINGS:  
> mentions to violence, suicide, drugs   
> violence  
> PTSD issues  
> ENJOY~~~~!

Angela had been surprised with your decision, and you couldn’t blame her. It hadn’t been long since you had blown off your own hands in an attempt to escape Overwatch’s grasp, and it had only been minutes since you’d been against the organization. Talon had fed you that the organization was one that harbored Terrorists, but breathing air not surrounded by prisoners and wild torture begged otherwise. 

Talon had tortured you, shoving toothpicks under your nails, attempting to drown you and drugging you just to keep you in their control. They’d shoved you to suicide, to hanging from your window with a blanket wrapped tightly around your neck. Overwatch had tried to save you from yourself. 

The cold tiles on your feet kept you grounded to reality as Angela escorted you back to the med wing, promising a room as soon as you were cleared. She cast you a worried look as the images displayed on the wall flickered to darkness, your memories and your old life gone within a blink of your eye. You understood how such an emotion and action felt, no longer seeing, but definitely remembering. You didn’t need images to remember what once was.

You thought Angela knew that, knew how unstable you were. You weren’t sure if Overwatch had recovered your documents, wherever they were kept. You were certain Talon kept information on you, updating it constantly. If you were as important as you thought you were, they wouldn’t risk you going to waste, even if they treated you like utter shit at first. Looking back, you understood how tightly controlled what happened to you really was. They knew how to break you, to bend you to their will.

And you did more than bend. 

You assumed Overwatch did retrieve your documents, although you didn’t know the members and if they specialized in hacking. It made sense for the organization to be able to do so, however. Protecting the world, as Angela claimed they did, didn’t necessarily provide easy and legal ways to achieve such a task. 

You briefly wondered what Widowmaker had written in your notes. Probably some weird, psychotic shit describing how little of a lamb you were, how’d she like to but a bullet in your brain and so on. You snickered at the thought. 

The smell of the medbay quickly shocked you back to reality and from your thoughts. It smelled like disinfectant, and too clean of air. Angela seemed to notice the alarmed look in your eyes, and how you hugged your arms to your chest. The fabric of your shirt felt strange on your hands, almost as though it were cotton but not quite completely real. It felt as though you were feeling it through a glove, something that bothered you more than you felt it should.

It reminded you of the horrors committed to your body, from both your own, now lost, hands and those writing your papers behind strong walls in Talon.

“Are you okay?” Angela asked.

_ No,  _ you thought.  _ No, no...no I’m not.  _

But you smiled, and nodded, looking back to where your bare feet stepped onto white tile. Nothing more was said, nothing more exchanged. Angela stared at you, but you did not stare back. No, you were lost in the never ending memories of what you had done, how long you had hung, the hum glowing in your veins and your hands gone to the song. 

The walk back to your room was quiet, besides the soft pitter patter of your feet, and the rhythmic tap of your fingers wrapped around your chest. Finally crawling into a bed not yet yours, you closed your eyes, trying to breathe. But air wasn’t enough for what you were feeling, no. What you needed was in a needle, in the air crackling around your fingers and toes. You couldn’t breathe, no. 

Breathing wasn’t what you need. 

You closed your eyes.

And did not sleep.

 

You lied. Sleep did come and claim you eventually, but not before you planned your possible escape from this place, which seemed much more appealing than spending as much time as Angela deemed necessary in the med wing. You wanted to feel the air on your skin, feel the air in your lungs as you finally just  _ breathed.  _

Talon had never allowed you to step outside of their lab, never allowed your eyes to see through no filter, not even glass. You wanted to feel grass under your feet, feel the grass on your back as you finally lay back and-

You breathed in, blinking away the sleep in your eyes, rolling onto your back with a soft sigh. The bed was much more comfortable than the one in your old cell, and even your room. To some, the bed was stiff, and too small. But after a week trapped behind stone walls, it was large, warm and  _ safe _ . You used that term loosely, as you opened your eyes slowly, yawning. 

There was little light in your room as Angela had shaded the glass walls of the room you were in, and you relished in the imposed darkness. Under your blankets, you simply stared at the dull ceiling, listening to your heartbeat in your ribs, sheltered from the harsh world with painstaking scrutiny. You didn’t think for once, and simply existed, letting your worries cease and just trying to breathe. 

You wondered what Gabe was doing, if he were waking up now too. You had no idea what time it was, but it didn’t matter, not yet anyways. Once you stood up and pulled away the shades, time would return, and so would the white hot fear that existed in your lungs and in your veins. You wondered if he was shaving, or if he were getting dressed, sitting on the toilet while sleepily brushing his teeth. 

You wondered if he was fighting right now, protecting Widowmaker from close range combat, yelling at Sombra to get the data and  _ run now, dammit.  _ You wondered if he missed you, if he thought of you too.

You missed him, wanted to kiss him, hold him. But you were with Overwatch now, and you would not return to Talon ever again. Not until Jack Morrison and those responsible for the hundreds of deaths met their maker, anyways. 

You could cope.

_ Cope.  _

You closed your eyes, bit your lip and sighed, throwing off the blankets covering your body. The air was cold against your nude skin, and you shivered briefly, not enjoying the hospital gown material or coverage. But you weren’t going to sit there and wait for Angela to get back. You had to pee, godammit. 

The tile was cold to your feet, and again you shivered, remembering how cold Gabe’s skin was against your fingers. You shoved the memory of his eyes away, the way he looked at you as though there was  _ just only you.  _ He was gone now, and now it was just you.

Without him.Without Justice.

Alone in a world that left you behind in an empty grave and a tombstone with no final date. 

It was overwhelming thinking of the world now, of where Jack Morrison and the Terrorist group responsible for your fate and others might be. You had no idea what this world was like now, your only ideas reflecting the little you saw on the ambulance drive to the hospital over a week ago. The drivers had mentioned serious climate reforms, but had tried to keep your gaze from what was around you to prevent culture shock.

In Talon, you’d only seen grey, a beautiful color with plenty of shades. You’d seen red in eyes, and purple on skin, but the sky had been overcast and you’d been hidden. But the sky had never been blue, and grass had never been green. The outside world, to you, was neverending, infinite and now...forbidden. 

You let out a breath, and shook your head as you stepped towards the button Angela had hit to summon the shutters. The soft  _ pit pat  _ of your feet kept you company as you made your way to the wall, legs fuzzy with sleep and lack of use over the past few days of unconsciousness. Angela had explained that soreness and even pain was to be expected after both the immense use of the hum, and the clash of her healing and the hum inside your veins. 

Memories of your failed escape attempt haunted you in your sleep, when your eyes were closed and your conscience shielded from the present. But you were never protected from reality, from the real world. Your mistakes and failures haunted you even when you were meant to be free, an eternal damnation sentenced by whatever being granted you these powers.

_ With great power comes great responsibility,  _ you thought to yourself, wishing to be watching Spider Man with Justice in your apartment instead of being in 2076. Maybe then you wouldn’t have gotten these powers, something you knew you should be grateful for. Your powers had saved your life from both yourself, and even others. 

But you could find nothing within you to be thankful for chances to live 

Selfish? Maybe. 

With a sigh, you pressed the button that released the shutters, enveloping you in a bright light from the hallways. You squinted and winced for a moment, shielding your face from the sudden brightness for a moment. Once you found your eyes adjusting, you let your arm fall to your side as you looked outside the shutters. 

And there he was. 

To be more specific, he as in the man with the red visor and blue mask. In all honesty, he looked like a sci-fi school shooter, or, considering what year you were in, a modern school shooter. He stood like a soldier, which you supposed he was if he was with Overwatch. His arms were crossed, body tense and taut with learned cautiousness and suspicion. You knew if you raised your hand and summoned the hum, he would be on you in seconds, subduing you within the blink of an eye.

You frowned when you saw him, and when he saw you. You could see his head move ever so slightly to the side, a jerky movement that displayed his surprise. He must’ve not expected you to be awake, or to be be opening the shutters. You knew you didn’t sleep much lately, for obvious reasons. Maybe they expected you to be exhausted, or to be feel safe now that you were out of Talon. 

Your existence spited expectations. 

You stared at him for a few moments until you heard a soft beep from behind you, making you look back. The beep was the lights in your room turning on, surely from noticing your movements moments before. So you looked back to see the man, only to find he was gone. 

Weird…

Whatever, you had to pee. With a soft huff, you turned and slowly walked into the bathroom, looking forward to relieving your bladder and a hot shower. But when you entered the bathroom, now fully conscious as opposed to the previous times you’d been in the room, you were taken aback by how similar it appeared to the bathroom in the hospital.

The hospital room where Lucy died, eyes wide before being blown apart by Reaper’s shotgun blast. Her fingers had been cold on you as she’d shoved you into the vent, sweaty with the knowledge she would die. She could’ve begged for mercy, no she didn’t. She died with the World on her tongue and she still spared it.

Reaper had been menacing, all shadows and what you had been taught to fear through the television. Horror movies had been fun to watch, and you’d often yelled at people in them with Justice. And then...you were in one.

And you were still waiting for the movie to end.

A soft “Oh! You  _ are  _ awake!” startled you from your intense fear and recollection of another death you were accountable for. You turned around, trying to ignore how sweaty you suddenly were. But Angela, who was dressed in a white doctor’s coat and a black sweater, couldn’t ignore. 

Her expression had been happy to see you awake, but one look at the pale pallor on your face and the obvious sweat, she tensed. You swallowed the anxiety in your chest, and the sudden churning in the pits of your stomach. The smell of the blood in the air stung your nose, the sound of bullets in the distance echoing in your ears.

You flexed your fingers.

“(Y/N)?” Angela asked, and you closed your eyes.

“I think I’m pregnant.”

It got her off your ass for a few hours, at least. 

The number of urine tests Mercy forced you to do was enough to make your bladder hurt, but once the third test came out negative, she finally ceased to worry over you. You could see her eyes follow you in obvious concern whenever you walked, wondering what happened to you. The last physical Talon had done to you was the night you’d agreed to become a soldier for them, and it had been quick. You’d peed in a cup, given some blood, and been on your way.

And you knew you hadn’t been pregnant.

You hadn’t had any sex since then, but Overwatch didn’t know that. They went off what was written in the papers, and Angela hadn’t asked you what had happened in Talon. They didn’t know if you had been assaulted, if you had been raped.

You thought of Gabe, and how he’d kissed your flaws, hands on your waist but not straying below there. 

No, you hadn’t been raped.

You hadn’t even had sex. 

But the fear of being pregnant had gotten Angela off your back about how shaken up you’d been at the sight of a hospital-like bathroom. You knew it was silly to get so shaken up over something so small and insignificant, and you’d beaten yourself up when Angela finally allowed you to take a shower. 

The feeling of hot water on your body would be heavenly if the smell didn’t take you back to the day your life went wrong. You lowered your head, letting the warm water dampen your hair and drip down your face. 

Murphy’s law dictated that what can happen, will happen. And you were no exception.

On your birthday, a Terrorist group had attacked the outlet mall you and your friends were at in search of you, knowing more than they let on. Would Overwatch have information on how they knew of your powers before even you did? Possibly. Did it matter now? No. You couldn’t go back and change the attack. 

_ Could you?  _

They had killed hundreds, including your friends. They had mistaken you for a civilian, and attempted to kill you. You’d lived, something you now understood was a terrible mistake. You would have prevented Talon from getting a hold on you, sparing you both pain and possibly saving the world from whatever information they’d gained on your powers and how to control them. Talon would have not attacked the hospital you’d been brought to, saving even more hundreds of thousands of lives if you’d been killed.

What pain would you spare both yourself and others from if you…

You opened your eyes, blinking away the water in your eyes. Tears? Maybe. It didn’t matter. You sniffled, reaching forward to turn off the shower. The stream of water stopped, and you were left cold and wet in an empty room. You distinctly heard voices outside the door that led to the room you were staying in, but you paid it no mind as you reached for a towel and began to dry yourself off. 

Shit...did you really have to keep wearing your hospital gown? It was uncomfortable. Maybe Angela would have different clothes for you…

Wrapping the towel around your body, you opened the door to reveal-

A girl...no, a woman with brown spiky hair wearing bright orange leggings and a black Overwatch t-shirt. Your eyes widened in surprise, and so did hers and Angela’s as they spotted you. You suddenly felt awkward under their gaze, especially considering how vulnerable you were at the moment. Instinctively, you crossed your arms, folding in on yourself protectively. “Umm… Do you have some clothes for me?” you muttered, and Angela’s expression turned into a sympathetic one.

“Yeah, the hospital gowns are rubbish!” the other woman said, and Angela rolled her eyes with a smile, clutching her clipboard to her chest. 

“Of course. What’s your size?”

You told her your size, and the other woman kicked off of leaning on the bed frame. “I can get them! Where are they?” she asked, and Angela gave her a room number and then…

The woman disappeared.

You visibly recoiled, looking around in awe as Angela giggled softly. You looked at her with wide eyes, so surprised that you forgot to feel vulnerable. One hand was still held to your chest as you took a hesitant step forward, peering out the doorway that led to the empty medbay hallway. 

The girl wasn’t there.

So...where’d she go?

There was a flash of blue light, and you stepped back, startled at the sudden sight. You tripped over your feet in ungraceful shock, but hands wrapped around your waist and steadied you. Something soft dropped onto your feet as you abruptly noticed the woman’s face, concerned. “You alright, luv?” she asked, and you narrowed your eyes, standing back up without the help of the woman.

She hesitantly let go and cursed under her breath, leaning down to pick up what you realized were the clothes she’d asked Angela to get. Was the room next door? But even that wouldn’t explain how she’d literally just moved at the speed of light. Was technology that advanced now?

“Umm…”you said, trailing off as the girl just looked at you like a confused puppy. You closed your eyes, and opened them again with a deep breath. “What the fuck?” you decided on saying, and the girl’s mouth twisted up into a large, brilliant grin that made her eyes scrunch up. Angela softly laughed too, shaking her head as she pinched at the bridge of her nose.

They may have laughed, but you were still confused as shit, to put bluntly. You couldn’t help how the corners of your lips turned up subtly as the girl giggled wildly, looking back at Angela. “I like her!” the girl declared, and Angela rolled her eyes, taking a step forward.

“I wasn’t expecting you here so soon, Lena,” Angela said, and Lena, the girl you supposed, shrugged sheepishly, cheeks slightly pink.

“Sorry! I got too excited when I heard we might have a new member!” she said, and Angela again shook her head.

“Why am I not surprised?” she sighed, but her voice was jesting, not serious at all. It made you feel a bit at ease at how friendly Lena seemed to be, with big eyes and a practically invincible smile. You wished you could be like her, carefree and blooming like a flower under spring’s first dark cloud. 

“I’m Lena, also known as  _ TTTracer! _ ” she cried, using her one free hand to throw up into a peace sign while striking a pose. You watched her, hair still dripping and body only covered by a wet towel, with wide, incredulous eyes. She winked, clearly not awkward even despite your lack of reaction. 

Angela cleared her throat, and Tracer looked back at her. “Lena...um, her clothes,” she said, and Tracer giggled again, rubbing the back of her neck as you took the clothes from her hands. 

“Oh right! Sorry~!” she said, and you nodded, not saying anything. 

Angela noticed your discomfort, and offered another soft smile. “How about you go change, and then we can talk?” she said, and you nodded, liking the plan. Lena nodded too, and in another flash of blue light, she was gone, but now sitting on your bed. Your mouth was slightly agape, and you swallowed your thoughts, nodding to yourself.

“Yeah okay…”

You turned, walked into the bathroom, and shut the door behind you.

What the hell.

You closed your eyes, swallowing your questions. They would be answered soon anyway so there was no point mulling on the words swirling in your head. Of course, the thoughts in your head didn’t cease to exist, but they became more quiet, lost in the movements of you pulling off your hospital gown.

And so you stood there...nude in a bathroom that brought back memories you didn’t care to relive. But you couldn’t help the shaky breaths raising and lowering your chest as you looked at your toes, at the hospital gown by your feet. You chewed on your lip, goosebumps on your skin as you looked up into the mirror.

You saw yourself, and you saw your body. You were naked, and you hadn’t seen your own body in what felt like forever. A small step forward, and you were bracing yourself on the sink, leaning on closer to examine your face. Your hair was a mess, hastily cut without even really considering what you were doing. Hesitantly, you reached forward and played with the frayed edges, wondering how Gabe could look at you the way he did. He looked at you as though you were beautiful, a natural wonder against the grey skyline of a city. 

A soft sigh came from your lips, and you swallowed, turning around to pulling on a sports bra, some underwear, grey sweatpants and grey t shirt. The sweatpants were a bit too large, but it didn’t bother you as you kicked away the hospital gown. God...you hated that thing.

You opened the door, revealing Lena and Angela chatting. Lena was sitting on your bed, legs criss cross apple sauced as she cheerily talked about whatever it was Overwatch members talked about. Maybe they talked about how awful Talon was, or-

“Hey luv!” Tracer cried, gone in a blue flash and by your side as soon as you noticed she was even gone. You jumped back, hitting to the door with a soft cry at the sudden appearance. Angela took a step forward, and Tracer’s face became sheepish as she took a step back. “Sorry! It’s a habit!” she apologized, and you let out a deep breath, nodding and accepting her apology. 

“It’s okay,” you said, and Lena smiled an infectious smile again. “Um...what is that?” you asked, eyebrows furrowing. The question was vague, but Lena understood, nodding.

“Do you wanna sit?” she asked you, and you nodded. You climbed into your bed, feeling much more secure on it rather than standing. The conversation would be situated here, and hopefully Lena wouldn’t be doing whatever it was she did. Did...Overwatch do that to her?

You frowned as she sat in a chair across from you, still as cheerful as before. 

“Lena is...very special,” Angela said from behind you, and Lena giggled mischievously. With a look over your shoulder, Angela was shaking her head with a smirk, clearly poking jokingly at the other woman. You couldn’t help but agree. Not only did she have some strange ability, her happiness was like a disease, but a good one.

“Ahh~ You’re making me blush, Angela!” she said, and the woman sighed, walking over to the door that led into the hallway. 

“I’m going to give you two some privacy. Once you two are done, come find me Lena. We still have some tests to run,” Angela said, looking at you just before she left. Once the door shut behind her, you looked down at your feet.

What tests?

You thought back to the toothpicks under your nails, the water in your throat and nose and you couldn’t breathe, no...You couldn’t and his fingers were wrapped around your hair and  _ it hurt so- _

“You okay there?” Lena asked, and you shook your head with a gasp, jolted back to reality. The woman was staring at you with a concerned expression, and you swallowed, offering a shaky, fake smile to try and reassure her.

“Yeah, sorry...I’m tired,” you lamely excused, and Lena hummed, leaning back in her chair with a wistful expression. She crossed her legs, humming to herself.

“I have them too, ya know,” she murmured, and you looked down at your hands, which were tightly pressing down on your lap. You immediately crossed your arms, clearing your throat uncomfortably. But Lena had noticed. “The flashbacks...It’s normal, but that doesn’t make them hurt any less,” she said, and you clenched your jaw, metal hands clenching. Your throat went dry, the world suddenly all too focused around you as you looked at her eyes, not fearful of the eye contact. She stared back, but not with malice, not matching your fear. She looked at you as though she understood, as though she knew what was going on inside your head.

But that wasn’t possible.

No…

Was it?

“No,” you said, not sure what answer you were questioning or who you were even talking to. But Lena didn’t mind. No, she leant forward, hands on her knees. 

“I was a pilot, a pretty good one too. I was chosen to test a new plane, one with technology you could only ever dream of back in 2016,” she said, and you narrowed your eyes, looking right at her. She looked back. “The plane was called ‘Slipstream’, and it had the power to teleport,” she said, and you would’ve laughed, but times had obviously changed. 

The world was not yours...not anymore. And this was just another reminder that dug the growing pit in your chest.

“It failed,” you murmured, and she nodded her head with a soft smile, one that was mellow. She leaned back, almost seeming to lose herself for a moment.

“Yes, and no,” she said, and you didn’t understand. She noticed. “The ship and I were lost. We...got lost in whatever  _ it  _ was,” she said, and you understood. Oh...you understood so well. You’d been there, lost in the neverending infinity that was between 2016 and 2076. It hovered on your fingertips, electric and dangerous. You’d felt yourself lost in its stream when you had died, body hanging free of all restraints of life. You’d felt it when you’d teleported behind Sombra, effectively subduing her. You’d felt it, yes…

And Lena had too.

Learning that made everything seem to change, as breath became sparse in your lungs and even more lost in your throat. You shifted, subconsciously leaning forward as you blinked, not quite understanding. Lena noticed, and you swallowed, mouth open and ready to speak only to be lost. 

“You...you felt it?” you whispered, voice cracking. You’d be embarrassed, but your eyes were wet, breath suddenly quick and raspy. Your throat constricted weirdly, and you swallowed, trying to remedy it. “You...you were there too?”

“More than once,” she said, and there was something wet on your cheeks. You reached up, rubbing at it only to pull away and see your finger wet. Wh...what? Your cheeks were wet, soaked in fact. The water kept coming, and weird noises were coming from your chest, and you hiccuped. 

Lena leaned forward, almost panicked as you began to make weird noises you weren’t supposed to make. Her hands reached for you, unsure of what to do. She disappeared in blue lights, but was back as soon as she was gone, Angela bursting through the door. But that didn’t stop the weird noises and the water on your cheeks.

It wouldn’t stop. You were overflowing, were you dying?

No…

You sobbed, grabbing Lena by the shoulders. She stopped quickly talking to Angela, and Angela halted in her movements for medical supplies. It was just you, and just Lena, the girl who felt it too, was lost in its grasp and came back. And she was smiling.

She could smile. She was happy.

You sobbed, hesitantly grasping her face. She was alive, she was well.

“You felt it too,” you whispered, and she nodded.

“I felt it too.”

“And you’re okay,” you said, almost not believing it. But Lena smiled, breathlessly laughing. She reached forward and took a hold of your face too, leaning forward.

“Yes, and you will be too.”

You weren’t dying.

You were living.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WOW THANKS FOR READING~~~!  
> again, i wanna thank you all for the wonderful comments! it honestly makes my day to see you guys enjoy this story! reviews KEEP WRITERS GOING! seeing reviews are so inspiring for authors!  
> ALSO....MY BIRTHDAY IS WEDNESDAY, MARCH FIRST!!!  
> it would honestly mean so much to me if you guys gave this chapter a bunch of reviews/comments, or kudos!   
> even a simple "happy birthday!" or "wow i loved this!" makes my day :)  
> SO PLEASE...  
> LEAVE KUDOS! kudos help this story get recognized!   
> LEAVE A COMMENT! comments help inspire us authors to keep writing! it also makes our days :)  
> AND FOLLOW THE WONDERFUL NEB BELOW!!!  
> http://miss-nebula-and-a-side-of-tea.tumblr.com/  
> i hope you all have a great day or a great night~!   
> <3 <3 <3


	17. Treat (Optional Chapter) (Explicit)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A treat for you readers (and myself :P )

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey there everyone!  
> so, since my birthday was a couple weeks ago, I decided to treat myself and write a lil something...  
> spoiler: i wrote porn  
> now, this chapter is ENTIRELY OPTIONAL! i know some readers dont want there to be any sex in the story, and that's fine! this story about YOU and so on. that's why this chapter is entirely optional. i did put into this story as as chapter though because it does require background information.  
> i also thought that some of you would really enjoy it!  
> now, there are MINOR spoilers for the story ahead, but really i didn't hint at anything super significant. i did do some little nods here and there to the story and other aspects of it, but like i said, there's not any significant spoilers.  
> this also takes place further in the timeline of the story. we all know the reader joins overwatch, so consider this a few months into reader's recruitment with overwatch. will the main story cover all the details of readers recruitment? so i thought this would be a fun lil filler for everyone, and a nice break from how intense the story itself is  
> again, there's no major spoilers and reading this is entirely optional!  
> so, here's the trigger warnings:  
> TRIGGER WARNINGS:  
> body horror  
> reference to self harm/ drug abuse  
> mentions to suicide, trauma and torture  
> sex ;)  
> and violence  
> ALSO, i do use the terms "papi" which is spanish for "daddy", and i want to make a disclaimer that i do not use it in any way to be offensive or promote child sexual abuse, etc. i understand some people aren't a fan of this, and i want to make sure you all know i used the term between two consenting adults!  
> this chapter is also extremely long, topping out at 36 pages on Google Docs and 18,000 words. it took me a long time to get this finished. with that said, I hope you all enjoy it~

Missions with Overwatch had become almost normal. You’d be assigned to a few day long mission every other week, missions first being simple scouting missions to important missions escorting civilians, protecting important government officials and so on. It’d taken time before Soldier had finally, although reluctantly, assigned you to the more difficult missions. He knew you were talented, your control of your powers proving beyond useful on the field.

Not only could you essentially travel back to a specific point in time on the field, you could locate enemies before they could even see or hear you. The nonstop pull of people’s cores on the hum in your veins tugged you to certain places, and a few well placed bullets made those places empty besides corpses. 

Sometimes, you and other members fought against gangs or thugs, especially in the southern U.S and in Mexico. But more often than not, you fought against Talon. 

You hadn’t fought against any Talon members that you knew personally, specifically Lesedi and Widowmaker. Maybe this was for the best, the healthiest choice Overwatch could make. You had an idea that Soldier was behind these decisions, the guiding hand on missions you were required for. 

Maybe it was because he knew what you would do to your captors, to the one’s who were behind your nightmares and the needles in your arms.

He knew the rage in your chest, the way the hum turned dark as something evil pulled on your song, twisting it into something not even you could identify. Soldier had seen you rage, seen how terrifying inhumane you could become in mere seconds. He had felt your rage, felt the cold embrace of the Universe’s powers on his skin.

You had cried, and he had forgiven you.

He had loved you. 

But this mission required all hands on deck. It was an emergency mission, one of critical importance that had no time for screening. Even if there were Talon members you knew, you would have to fight them. The thought of putting a bullet in Hoshi’s skull kept you up on the ride to Numbani, the thought of Alzbeta killing you before you could even sense her presence making you sweat. 

Even Soldier sitting next to you on transport couldn’t lull you to the sleep you required. He couldn’t sleep either, but neither of you spoke.

You knew what the mission was, of how important it would be to not just Overwatch or Talon, but the entire world. A nearby museum which had hosted Doomfist’s Gauntlet had received leaks of Talon activity, and had prepped it for immediate extraction to a safe and secure location. 

The mission had come up just after a particularly tough mission which had wounded a number of Overwatch members. Among them were Genji, Torbjorn, and Pharah. Pharah had been unresponsive last you’d heard, and had prompted both Mercy and Zenyatta to stay behind. The mission would have been easier if even Pharah and Mercy had been with them, but with five members missing?

They needed your powers, they needed you to protect them. They knew you could heal them, and you knew you could too. But knowing something and believing in it were entirely different. 

Could you keep them alive?

You looked up from your lap, looking around at the people around you. Tracer, or Lena Oxton, was fast asleep, phone left on to show a redhead asleep too. D.VA was asleep inside of her mech too, with Lucio heal boosting some music to keep her calm. Hana was prone to intense nightmares, and Lucio’s music kept her calm. He’d fallen asleep against her mech, and you smiled at the sight.

Ana was wide awake, reaching into her pocket for the same holographic device you’d noticed she pulled out before every mission. She flicked it on, and a small girl appeared. She smiled to herself before pocketing it again, leaning against the sleeping Reinhardt. Junkrat was passed out on Roadhog’s stomach as well, and the larger man seemed to playing with the ends of Junkrat’s flaming hair.

Hanzo was not asleep however, clearly troubled as he snuggled closely to a snoozing McCree. His arms were cross, lips thin as he frowned. You wondered if he was worrying over Genji. Despite Hanzo’s murder of Genji, the two shared a bond not even murder could destroy. They cared for each other, and furiously protected each other.

You softly hummed to yourself, sending a soft warm hum to his core. He visibly relaxed into McCree’s body, and you smiled.

A number of other agents had gone ahead once they’d immediately heard the emergency report and requests for help, setting up a temporary HQ and performing recon. You’d only been to Numbani once, and it was with Lucio. The two of you had joked around during recon, and you’d been in awe of how beautiful it was. 

And now...now things wouldn’t be fun.

You shifted in your seat, and Soldier looked down at you. You could feel his eyes through his visor, showing obvious concern for you. He worried about the team way more than he let on, but his attention seemed to have specifically shifted to you ever since you’d joined. Sure, he drilled the others during daily training sessions, but he’d gone out of his way for you on more than one occasion.

You frowned, playing with a small cube Symmetra had made for you to toy with when anxious. She’d often times reached out to you in her own ways to help you. At first, she didn’t understand you, couldn’t understand you. But over time, she helped in her own ways. She taught you basic engineering, and even helped you learn to code. Sombra would be proud of you, although your hacking abilities couldn’t even be compared to her without it being disrespectful.

Speaking of Symmetra, she was in Numbani right now, probably securing turrets along the transport route. Winston would be helping her too, probably preparing his barriers with Torbjorn’s help. The two often went first as they had more experience than anyone being original members of Overwatch. 

“It’ll be okay,” Soldier told you quietly, the visor making his voice even softer. You looked over at him before nodding, swallowing roughly.

“Yeah,” you replied.

“Get some sleep,” he said, and you smiled, shaking your head.

“Can’t.”

Suddenly, a jacket was draped around your shoulders, huge on your smaller frame. You’d struggled with nutrition ever since Talon, although you had managed to regain some weight with the help of the Team. You looked up at Soldier in confusion, but he looked away. Were...his cheeks red? “A blanket,” he offered, and you smiled, a soft chuckle caught in your throat.

“Thanks,” you said, draping it across your lap. You reached below the seat for your backpack, only to remember you’d forgotten your pillow. You smacked your head, groaning before Soldier sighed.

You looked over at him, and he patted his thigh. You smiled at him, laying down and resting your head on his lap. Slowly, you drifted off to sleep.

The air was tense and hot as you and the rest of the team stepped off of Overwatch’s plane, gathering your stuff as you quickly hurried to where Winston and the others had established their base. You found little time to look around you and talk with Lucio about how beautiful it was here, not even considering remembering the two of yours last mission here.

Everyone was tense, including you. Soldier walked in front of everyone, almost leading them with Reinhardt by his side. You knew they were prepared to start shooting if any of Talon ambushed them, Reinhardt’s shield ready to be equipped and used. They all may not have been fully armored, but their pre-op uniforms were built to withstand pressure and damage.

But the others were relying on you and your use of the hum, counting on you to notice any enemies before they started shooting. A well placed sniper hit could take down anyone, and without Mercy, their healing capabilities were severely limited.

You didn’t even want to think about one of teammates dying. You had no idea just how far your powers could you, and you didn’t want to have to learn. If you had to, then you would. 

The others noticed your fear, and how you walked with your head turning all around. Your fingers kept moving in a rhythm Tracer had helped you learn. She’d helped you learn how to control and use your powers in the most effective form, and having a constant flow kept you in control. The two of you had gone back in time enough times that you really didn’t feel like doing it again.

You could feel a tug on the hum off in the battlefield, but no close enough to alert others. Alerting them would possibly force the tug into play, and as you said before, your armor was not equipped to handle a full on assault, and being split completely from the other group would limit your fire power. 

You discreetly moved some potential energy to surround the group, hovering near the back. The others noticed, yet kept walking, and you noticed how Soldier kept looking back at you. He was worried, you knew. He was worried if you could handle this, if you could handle possibly killing people you knew, people who were nice to you. Would they be brainwashed, turning into Widowmaker? Or would they still resemble the people who were kind to you? 

You didn’t know which you preferred.

The hum was moving, but not getting any closer. It was almost as though it new the range of your internal scanner, ghosting along the edges so not to alarm both you and your team. It was strange.

Did Talon know how to track you?

The thought just added more worries to your ever growing “well, shit” list, but you swallowed the fear in your throat, and moved on. While the tug seemed to only pull on the very edges of your influence, you didn’t want to risk your friends’ lives.

Finally, everyone entered the HQ. Symmetra was pleased to see you, subtly rushing over to you to check your hands. While they were metal prosthetics, the hum could often time mess with the circuits considering it was energy flowing from your fingers. Symmetra had created a special micro-barrier that protected you from any fuses being blown and what not, and even direct hits to your hands were absorbed. 

The others quickly settled down, pulling out their armor and whatnot. The mission would start an hour from then, giving everyone enough time for a quick briefing of the scout’s findings and to get ready for battle. Soldier was already fully equipped, pulling his pulse rifle out and meeting with Winston to discuss their findings. Symmetra gave you her own briefing.

“So much chaos here, so little control. Talon’s agents are smart, and watch us from afar, waiting. We believe that a number of them will hang back to put pressure on us from afar, and wait to understand our movements. And then, we believe they will strike, all at once. Widowmaker is here,” she said, and you swallowed, tensing under Symmetra hands. She noticed, and gave you a long look. “You cannot falter. We need you now more than ever,” she reminded you, before quickly testing her own addons in your hands. You felt the reassuring hum of her technology, and relaxed, nodding to yourself. “You’ve saved us more than once. You can do this if you maintain control,” she told you, and you looked at her, clenching your jaw with a nod.

“Right,” you replied, almost to yourself. Symmetra sat back on the balls of her feet, letting you reach to your side and pull out your armor. The armor was tight against your body, trying to allow the hum to flow freely and with little restraint. Winston and Symmetra had taken a solid week to create it, and had even commissioned a girl from your current location named Efi to create additional armor components. Efi had created tough boots that could help you “feel” presences better, and weird gauntlets that helped increase the range of your powers. And most importantly, she’d created a similar chestpiece that would help you not get burnt out from using the hum a lot, and would even prevent you from accidentally collapsing the fabric of the universe.

You’d done it once. Didn’t feel like doing it again.

As you pulled the suit out from your bag, you sighed, standing up and kicking off your shoes. Symmetra often times cast a darker barrier to give you some privacy before changing into your uniform, something that made her roll her eyes and snort. But as you leaned down to take off your socks, she elbowed you in your side. You hissed, standing up to curse at her but she was giving you a look.

You narrowed your eyes, mouthing “what?”. She nodded behind you, and you rolled your eyes, looking in that direction only to see Soldier staring at you. Staring at your…

Your face became way too hot to continue looking at him normally, and you leaned back down and ungracefully took off your sock. Symmetra was chuckling evilly, and you clenched your jaw at her, throwing you dirty sock at her face. 

“Cover me up,” you grumbled, and she continued laughing quietly, doing as you asked.

She held it in place as you took off your Overwatch leggings, pulling off your Overwatch long sleeved shirt. That left you in your bra and underwear, feeling a heated gaze on you still. He knew he couldn’t see through the barrier, unless…

You tripped over your shoes, face completely red as you made a startling revelation.

Would the perv...would he really be using tactical visor or whatever mode his visor had on it? 

You cleared your throat, and felt Symmetra’s attention now. “Is he...using tactical visor?” you whispered, and she made a soft hum, clearly interested. “Can you tell?” you asked, and she scoffed.

“Dear, give me a real challenge,” she said, and you shook your head, reaching towards the chair that had your skin-tight black suit. Its material was strong, looking thin when it was really thick with a material Winston didn’t even want to disclose to you. 

“Top secret,” he said, and you hadn’t pried, just happy with the thought of not being shot and killed. You quickly pulled it on, trying to shield your body.

You didn’t want him to see the imperfections, the scars and the extra bit of skin you had there. You couldn’t let him see you, he’d be so disappointed and-

Your suit was on, and the barrier disappeared. You felt embarrassed, exposed. Would he really do that? 

Symmetra turned and gave you along look, hands going from her own visor to crossed against her chest. You groaned, rubbing at your face, but she shook her head. “Wasn’t x ray vision. He was checking your vitals,” she said, and you suddenly felt very, very dumb. Again, you dropped your face in your hands and let out a long sigh, silently chastising yourself for getting so worked up. “Wishing he would, hmm?” she asked, and you shook your head, shooting her a dangerous look. But Symmetra merely chuckled and walked off, leaving you to your gear.

You sighed, shaking your head as you sat in the chair next to your backpack, which held your gear. It was a stark white against your black suit, and you were pleased with how it looked all together. You looked like a soldier, a woman ready to kick ass.

Maybe you were, but you still considered yourself just a woman.

As you pulled on your boots, someone sat next to you. You looked over, expecting Symmetra to be sitting and ready to fire another snarky remark. Instead, you saw Soldier, who was cleaning his rifle. You peering at him caught his attention briefly, and you smiled at him before looking down.

“Looking at me while changing, eh?” you teased, knowing the truth. He was checking up on you. You understood why D.va sarcastically called him dad. 

His pinks were cheek when you threw a soft laugh at him over you shoulder before securing your boots. Then, you slid onto your gauntlets, waiting for his reply.

“I wasn’t-”

“Didn’t take you as a perv,” you joked and he sighed loudly, definitely pinching the bridge of his nose. You looked at him, and yep...he was. You elbowed him, making him look more surprised than embarrassed now. “I’m messing with you. I know you were checking up on me, although I don’t know why. I’m doing fine,” you said, and he grunted, clearly not buying your words. You frowned, looking at him as your gauntlets clicked and became secure on your arms.

He continued polishing, expression unreadable due to the visor but body suggesting disbelief. You rolled your eyes, opening your mouth only to have him interrupt you. “The worst mission you’ve been one was the one with McCree and Hanzo, and even that was nowhere bad in terms of missions with Overwatch. Tell me what happened again,” he said, and you groaned, throwing your head back with a long sigh.

This was the sixth time he’d brought this up to try and teach you a lesson of what missions were really like, but he wouldn’t talk to you until you did as he asked. So you pulled on your white chestpiece, securing it while speaking. “McCree and Hanzo were flirting and I turned around to yell at them. That was a fatal mistake because a Talon sniper had shot me through the thigh. We were then rushed and ambushed because the pain didn’t let me sense incoming enemies, and Hanzo had to pull me out as McCree did deadeye. I should have been more focused,” you said, and he grunted, pleased. “Yeah, but this isn’t like that,” you insisted, securing the piece on your chest.

“You’re right. If you get preoccupied with something, you will die, and if you fall, others will too. You need to do your job, just as others need to do theirs. If you recognize a Talon soldier, you still have to shoot, (Y/N),” he said, noticing how you looked away at the mention of an obvious weakness of yours. You’d already killed so many people….been responsible for so many deaths.

Did you really have to be responsible for more?

You nodded, taking a deep breath as you pulled out your headset, situating it onto your head. Once it was secured, you pressed a button on the side attached around your ear, and a display quickly manifested itself. You could see the vital signs of everyone around you, and a general outline of the area around you. You also had options of various radio frequencies, such as police radios and…

“D.va, did you seriously set up a playlist again?” you asked loudly only to hear giggling. You sighed, looking over at her in her Mech. She was typing away furiously on her phone, before looking up at you and winking.

“It’s your favorite~!” she cooed, and you rolled your eyes, reaching up in front of you and selecting the playlist from the options. Various 2000s and 2010s music started playing and you shot D.va a smirk. “You’re welcome!” 

“And you call me an old man when she listens to that junk,” Soldier grumbled.

“Cuz you are an old man,” D.va said, and you mockingly clutched your chest, acting offended.

“I’ll have you know that Fall Out Boy and Panic! At The Disco are classics of my time, thank you,” you sighed, and Soldier stood up, examining his rifle. 

“Sounds like emo trash to me.”

“Would you rather have me turn on Ariana for an old perv like you?” you asked him, and the oil rag was thrown in your face. You laughed, throwing it back at Soldier as he walked off to speak with Winston. As you watched him leave, a familiar song came on over D.va’s playlist.

“ _ My neck, my back, lick my-” _

_ “ _ Hana!” you screeched, throwing your backpack at her. Instead of it hitting her, however, it hit Lucio, who acted as though he passed out on the floor. Hana picked him up with her Mecha’s arms, shook her fists to the sky.

“Nooooo~! God, why! Whyyyyy?” she jokingly sobbed, and you laughed wildly.

Could you kill Talon? Yes.

Would you? 

You looked around, memorizing the smiles on your friends faces. Tracer was still facetiming the girl with red hair, whom you assumed was Emily. Hana and Lucio were now have dance offs against one another, and Hanzo was sowing McCree’s serape at the edges while the cowboy smoked a cigar, watching his boyfriend lovingly.

Would you kill to protect them?

Yes...yes you would.

You would die to protect them.

 

About an hour later, everyone was ready to leave the safety of the HQ and move to the payload. You had your shotgun fully loaded in case someone wandered close to the payload, but you pistol was holstered and ready for use at the blink of an eye. You weren’t a damage dealer by any means, as you were more of a defensive asset. 

However, if you had to be categorized, it would be as a support. With your powers, you could “find” enemies within a certain range. Using the gauntlets, the armor Efi built you could transmit it into an actual physical view within the map your visor made. You could then allow others to see these locations, but actively holding all that power with the hum could be draining. You had to be smart when transmitting the information, as it required power and focus. 

You could also provide cover for others by using kinetic energy to pull down on physical object. If an ally needed immediate relief, you could pull on a lamp post on enemies or even move a car for cover. And most importantly, you could move throughout the battlefield using your allies and enemies previous movements. 

You preferred to save your powers for finding enemies and potentially saving an ally, but if it was necessary, you could snap someone’s core, effectively killing them. While Tracer and a number of other people had worked with you on how to use your powers and preserve energy, you knew your limits and how to work with what you had.

Finally, the time came. You didn’t all move out at once in fear of a bombing, but instead a tank moving with one support, an attacker or two and a few defensive allies. You were among the second wave to be sent out. D.va, Lucio, Mei, Hanzo and Tracer accompanied you to the payload, all of your furiously running through the streets while still remaining alert. 

Everything was fine until a loud explosion sounded from ahead. You all came skittering to a stop, and you felt your breath catch in your throat. Were your allies okay? You quickly pressed the button on the side of your visor, prepping it for scan input. Your free fingers flexed, sending the hum out in a pulse-like action.

And…

Ping.

There they were. You felt the surge of energy flow through your veins, making you glow a brilliant blue color. Your gauntlets changed color to match your energy as it transfered what you felt to your visor and…

Good. Everyone else could see the enemies in front of you, even your attacked teammates. You and your allies had just approached the abandoned bus in the middle of the street with the other wave up ahead, turning the corner to approach the payload. Talon must have approached it and set off the defense mechs covering it. Had they torn through them all?

The only person remotely hurt was McCree, and Ana was shooting him up with her darts. 

“A mech was thrown our way. It exploded,” Ana said over comms, and you frowned. 

Hadn’t Efi given them a protective barrier they could activate to protect themselves from incoming blasts?

It clicked.

_ Sombra.  _

Fuck.

You should’ve been happy to see the Latina considering you considered her to be a close friends, even if the two of you had spent little time together. You’d found little trinkets in your room after missions, or after a long day training. While the base had top notch security with motion sensors and whatnot, Sombra was smart enough to figure out how to reach your room.

She didn’t stay long in fear of risking punishment or worse, but you often returned to your room to find printed pictures of her, of the places she went and sometimes…

_ Gabe. _

You hadn’t encountered Sombra ever before, and if she was here, that meant she didn’t come alone. Was Widowmaker here? Of course she was, you thought. Talon wouldn’t spare her here, especially if they knew you would be here. The purple lady had an unhealthy obsession with you. 

Would Talon attempt to take you back?

The thought made your blood run cold as your team began to push forward towards the payload, not far behind the first group. You kept moving, however, understanding that even if you were in immense danger of being brought back to Talon, you still had a job to do. You still had people to protect, and Talon could not get their hands on Doomfist’s gauntlet. 

A gauntlet couldn’t resist their torture like you could, a new determination in your veins.

“Payload has been secured, repeat, payload has been secured,” Ana yelled over the comms, and you heard the distant sound of bullets echoing off the walls. “Under heavy fire!” she yelled again, and you unclenched your fists, making the image on enemies disappear. 

“Coming in hot!” you yelled over your comms, a phrase everyone recognized. You crouched down, pressing the flat of your palm against the ground. You felt the cores of everyone, even the enemies. You could kill them, if you wanted. But it would possibly kill you, and your team needed you. 

So you closed your eye, felt for Ana’s hum and-

You were gone, flowing through somewhere no human should touch, nonetheless be near. You had no form, had no name...You just  _ were.  _

You were at peace.

You were no longer in pain.

You breathed, and you existed again, crouched behind the payload with Ana beside you. Once she saw you, she nodded, and you returned the gesture, pulling out your pistol. You would lay down suppressive fire for a few moments to regain some energy, and then you would throw back any enemies inching too close to the payload. This would allow the group you just left to get to the payload safely. 

You took a deep breath, turning and crouching so you could shoot over the payload. A bullet whizzed by your head, and you sat back down, breath caught in your throat. Your eyes were wide, the feeling of the bullet barely just passing by your skin a phantom feeling on your skin. You reached up, rubbing at where you would’ve been hit before shaking your head, taking a deep breath to steady yourself.

You needed to suppress Talon agents. If you did get shot, Ana would take care of you.

With thin lips, you turned and fired shots near the long road Talon agents were pushing forward on. Talon was smart, and had brought tough soldiers with hard armor and shields similar to Reinhardt’s so they could press forward. You kept firing shots at it to try and break it, but nothing was working.

They were getting closer.

“Fuck,” you said, and you looked around you. Everyone else was shooting that shield, focused on trying to suppress them. You knew your group would be approaching now, and they wouldn’t push up well with the constant rain of bullets. You sat back down with your back against the payload, thinking.

That shield needed to be broken, and then you could all take down the other soldiers. They wouldn’t be expecting it. You closed your eyes, taking a deep breath. Would they shoot you? Maybe. But you were too valuable to be killed, especially to Talon. Widowmaker wouldn’t let you die.

No.

None of them would.

You closed your eyes, flexing your fingers as you reached out and felt for people’s core. You could find the soldier who was holding the shield, and you could feel the thrum of the energy of the shield. You tried to find the flow of electricity, but as you reached for it, it slipped from your grasp.

Fuck. They’d made it resistant to long range short circuiting. You’d have to do this the hard way. 

McCree seemed to catch your gaze, situating himself next to you with a huff. You tried to avoid his gaze, chewing on your bottom lip as you debated actually using your powers to get behind enemy lines. It would relieve the pressure on the payload, but it could also lead to you being shot. Going down was  _ not  _ an option, not when you were already low on support.

“(Y/N)?” McCree asked, voice barely audible over the gunfire and yelling. You risked looking up at him, and you knew he understood. He knew what you were going to do, and he  _ did not  _ like it. “Don’t ya dare-”

“I have to McCree,” you interrupted, holstering your pistol. You huffed a piece of hair out of your face, swallowing roughly. “If I don’t, we’re gonna lose the payload and people will die,” you told him, and he scoffed. 

“The battle just started, darlin. We’re doing fine. Just calm down, and lay down suppressive fire, aight? This is your first big battle so I understand why you’re so worried,” he told you, resting his hand on your knee empathetically. 

You licked your lips, fingers tingling with the hum. It was hot in your veins, burning you again with the intense anxiety swelling in your chest. You felt like you were going to explode, the bullets and yelling growing louder and louder until-

“I’m sorry, Jesse,” you whispered, eyes flashing dangerously white as you wrapped the hum around his core. You squeezed, an action that wouldn’t kill him but would impair movements. You could see his veins flash white, suddenly unsure of what to do with your hum coursing through them. 

He looked angry, and sad. You looked away from him, the expression on his face an unbearable sight. With a deep breath, you switched channels to alert everyone. “I’m going in hot,” you said, and the fire around you stopped. 

“What?” D.va said.

“Are you fucking insane? You’ll be shot and killed in  _ seconds, _ ” Soldier yelled, and you closed your eyes at how furious the man was. He had a point...you would be shredded upon teleportation if you weren’t careful enough. 

“Just...distract them for me,” you said, and you heard him growl. You spared one last look to McCree besides you, watching his veins flicker with your power. “I’m sorry, Jesse,” you apologized again.

“Just don’t die,” he whispered. You looked away.

“Don’t even think twice about doing it you dumbass! McCree, don’t let her get out there and Ana, sleep dart her scrawny ass-”

“My ass isn’t scrawny,” you hissed one last time, before switching off the channel, taking a deep breath to steady yourself. 

“Where is she?” you heard Ana yell from higher up, surely watching over the battle and your allies. “Where is the girl?” 

“Right here,  _ mom _ !” you yelled loudly for those around you to hear, clenching your fists as you brought up a visual of all the enemies near the shield. There were seven Talon agents behind it, and if you could get behind them and surprise them, the agent with the shield might turn and be open for a snipe from McCree, if he recovered fast enough. If not, Ana would take care of them. They wouldn’t fail you...right? 

“You better not be serious about going in there, young lady!” she yelled, surely getting her sleep dart ready. You were definitely not letting that cursed dart be stuck in your ass… It hurt like hell.

You whispered a small prayer. No going back now…

“Sorry...I’m dead serious,” you said. 

You pressed your hand to the ground, tapping into the hum of the world around you. You could feel electricity, feel the cores and their songs around you. But you just needed a Talon agent, preferably one in the back of the formation. So with a deep breath, you pulled. 

And there was a snap.

You were nothing, no one.

You were just debris floating through space, trying to find a planet to crash into. You would burn in the atmosphere, break apart and destroy its surface, destroys its life and structures.

You would destroy.

You breathed out, and then you saw an agent dressed in dark armor in front of you. You grit your teeth, snarling animalistically as you whacked them across the head with the butt of your shotgun. They grunted, falling to the ground, and you aimed, saw their eyes and-

You pulled the trigger.

Dead.

They were dead.

You looked to the rest of the agents in front of you, aiming at one to your right and-

Dead.

The one to your left and-

Dead.

Three down.

Four to go.

But the lack of gunfire seemed to catch one agent’s attention, and they turned, ceasing fire for a moment. They saw you, veins bright with power and eyes a startling white. You breathed out, fingers shaking as you looked eyes with them.

“Nightlight,” you heard them say, and your eyes widened, glow faltering slightly at the sound of your nickname. No one else called you that, no. Only-

“Lesedi?” you said. You couldn’t see her face through her visor, but she reached up and pressed something on the side of her helmet and-... It was her. It was Lesedi, with those bright brown eyes and wildly freckled face. She looked at you, beautiful even as your enemy, and the other 3 agents turned, noticing her gaze. Three guns pointed at you, your shotgun lowered and-

“GET OUT OF THERE, (Y/N),” you heard over the comm, and you stepped back, breath caught in your throat as-

Hands wrapped around your waist, pulling you to the side. They were like claws, digging into your skin hard enough to draw blood. You cried out in pain, resisting and pulling at the grip, but it was too strong. Bullets ripped into where you were a moment before, and in your struggle against whomever had grabbed you, one grazed your cheek.

Again, almost dead.

But not quite. 

Screams died on your lips as you locked eyes with Lesedi, who stepped away, expression torn. Something was exchanged between you two, something unspoken but easily understood. She wouldn’t shoot you, no. She wouldn’t kill you. And you...you couldn’t kill her. You couldn’t.

Her rifle lowered, and she nodded at you, lips thin. You reached for her, and she turned, raising hand to her visor and then her gun back at your teammates. 

She did not fire.

You were pulled away by an invisible force, one with hands covered in claws at the end of their gauntlets. Shit, what had Talon created now? And shit, it had caught you off guard. 

You yelled out, kicking at the air and throwing your elbow back, but you hit nothing. No, you felt the familiar feeling of disappearing from this reality, from this dimension. You felt your body become nothing but a faint memory, a wisp in the air and the smell of cherry blossoms on your tongue.

Your eyes widened, and you stopped moving as you felt your body be stretched thin. You did not lose yourself completely, no. Instead, you lost your form, becoming nothing but just a name, a faint recollection of who you are.

_ “What do you look like?”  _

You knew that. You pictured that.

_ “Who are you?”  _

You knew that. You thought that.

_ “I love you.” _

You knew that.

Wait-what?

And just as quickly as you lost your form, you regained it, gasping loudly as you opened your eyes, not realizing you’d closed them at the familiar feeling of complete disassociation with this world. There was just a plain wall with some flowery patterns printed on it in front of you, a sight you did not expect.

You weren’t anywhere near the payload, no. What you remembered from your time here with Lucio told you that you were rather far away in fact, but not far enough that you didn’t hear the sounds of war. 

You were in an empty bedroom, possibly in a hotel from the looks of it. There was a suitcase open, clothes thrown around messily and bottles of beer left empty on tables and the floor. There was a phone, buzzing.

And those claws were still digging into your stomach. Now, with a growl, you threw your elbow back, hitting what you assumed was a face, but much harder. In fact, it would’ve hurt your elbow if it weren’t covered by your gauntlet.

The hand around your waist loosened, and you pushed off of the body behind you. With a cry, you spun your leg around for a hard kick to the face, only for your calf to be caught, forcing you into an uncomfortable position. 

But that didn’t matter.

What mattered was who was there, holding your leg high in the air and core singing a loud, forgotten song. You forgot how to breathe for a second, chest empty and mouth open and…

_ Breathe in... _

“Gabe,” you breathed out, and the hand around your leg loosened. 

There he stood, in full uniform. You’d forgotten what he’d looked like in his armor, Sombra’s pictures often of him in casual clothing. But you could never forget that mask, could never forget the tug at your hum when you were around him. You could never forget the way he stared at you, the way he treated you. 

He treated you like you were the only damn thing that mattered.

Something took over you, something you thought was left in your room at Talon. Emotions rushed forward, a bubbly feeling frothing in your chest and the pain you’d kept rebandaging being ripped open for the world to see. Tears were dripping down your face as you put your leg down, leaping forward as you wrapped your arms around his shoulders. Your legs wrapped around his waist, and buried your head into his neck, wetting his armor with tears.

The sobs were wild, uncontrolled as Gabe wrapped his arms around you, holding to him tightly. You could feel his mask dig into the crook of your neck too as you sobbed, breathing in the smell of gunpowder and his aftershave. You’d forgotten what he smelled like, what he felt like under your fingers.

You never could remember what his skin felt to yours, not on your hands. But you relished the feeling of him anyways, not daring to let go as you shook in his grasp. You thanked God, you thanked Allah, you thanked whatever power looked down at you, whatever power bestowed you the glow in your veins. 

“Gabe,” you whispered into his neck, sobs no longer making you quiver and shake in his arms. No, instead you felt light, as though you were floating. And you loved it.

You loved him.

“(Y/N),” he said, and you pulled back. Gabe followed your movements, and you couldn’t control the rapid beat of your heart in your chest. It felt like you were overflowing, a tub that’s drain didn’t work and the water just kept coming and-

He looked at you through his mask, and you looked at him through your own eyes. He was here, yes. Gabe was here, a man you had lost in the conflicts of war and living. You laughed looking at him, tears dripping down your cheeks. His clawed finger came up, and gently brushed away the tear, resting on your cheek as he just held you. 

“I missed you,” you said, and he didn’t reply, but you knew he did too. His finger rubbed at the crease of your eye, just as he always did back in the days of Talon. And you leaned into his grasp, into the cool skin he had. And he held you.

He held you.

“What are you doing here?” he asked you, question serious but voice gruff with concern. You shouldn’t have been on this mission, and Talon knew that. Everyone knew that. You were supposed to be back at base, biting your nails in worry and unable to sleep. But no, here you were.

Damn near getting killed.

“We had too many wounded,” you told him, pulling back from him to look him in the eyes. Here, he made sure his eyes were concealed. But you...you still looked at where his brown irises would be, where he would watch your movement, trace your body, memorize it into the shape of his skull and- 

“You could’ve died,” he whispered, voice losing the serious tone it had before. He was worried, worried about you. Even here looking at you he couldn’t stop his thoughts, couldn’t stop whatever he felt, whatever you both felt. 

Even when he held you, he worried about you, for you. You looked away for a moment, pursing your lips. “I know,” you replied, and Reaper pulled away from you like an injured animal, reeling from your words. But he did not drop you, no. His head shook, his hand came from your cheek to just below your breasts to hold you tight but he did not drop you.

He held you harder. 

“ _ Dios maldito maldito Sabía que iban a hacer esto, hacerle esto a ella. Dios-”  _ he growled, claws digging into your skin ever so slightly. You frowned, placing your hands at his shoulders as you unwinded your legs from around his waist. But he didn’t let you. In response your movements, his head jerked back to you, and you stopped moving. 

“Gabe?” you murmured, worried. Was he okay? You didn’t understand Spanish, and your translator had been turned off. You reached up to adjust a few buttons so you could turn it back on, but he gently grabbed your hand, no malice in his motions. You flinched, however, and he swore in Spanish under his breath again. “Baby-”

His claws skillfully travelled up your gauntlet before pressing at some buttons to release the armor. It fell to the ground, and you opened your mouth, ready to yell at him when he urgently pulled up your sleeve and-

Fuck.

Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuCK FUCKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKK ADFK;L

You immediately recoiled, pushing off of him just as Soldier had taught you. You rolled down your sleeve urgently, breath fast and panicked as you turned your back to the man you loved. 

He couldn’t see you.

Swallowing tears of now fear and shame, you shook your head, crossing your arms. “That was uncalled for,” you hissed, not turning to look at him. Instead your eyes were glued to the flower wallpaper, tracing its patterns with your eyes and-

“What have they done to you,  bebé?” Gabe whispered, voice low with controlled anger and rage. But you could feel his worry. You could feel his song twist and turn, reach out and poke at you with worry and fear. You could feel his thoughts crawling up the walls he’d caged them in, scratching and clawing and demanding to be released into the bullets of his shotguns. 

Did he...did he really think Overwatch had done this to you?

You furrowed your eyebrows, shaking your head as you turned to look at him. He was standing there, watching you with trained eyes skilled with precision and understanding. That’s what worried you the most. 

“Overwatch...Overwatch didn’t do this me, Gabe,” you said, and his song flinched away from your words. You wondered why he hated the organization so much, why he felt the way he did when you remembered… You remembered your rage, your fear as you fought back against their healing hands. 

You fought against kind hands offering warmth and kindness only to lose your own to the cold feel of metal and sadness.

Talon had done this to him, just as they had done to you. 

And here you both stood...wounded animals with enough open needles wounds on your arms and enough scars covering skin over bone. 

“Then who did?” he growled, taking a step forward. You bit your lips, looking down at your feet in shame, rubbing at the inside of your elbow. Did you dare tell him about the needles you stashed under your floorboards? Did you dare tell him about all the pills you’d stolen, the vials of dangerous liquid you’d taken?

You didn’t have to.

You didn’t have to say a thing.

“You did that to yourself...didn’t you?” he asked, and the sounds of war seemed faint compared to the silence exchanged between the two of you. You opened your mouth, ready for an explanation. 

“I’m sorry,” instead came out of your mouth. “I’m sorry I’m weak. I’m sorry I’m dumb, and I’m sorry I weigh you down and I’m sorry I’m ugly and I’m sorry for those scars and I’m sorry for me and-”

Something hit the ground, and you turned to look at Gabe, distracted from your apologies at the sound. His mask lay at his feet, and your eyes combed up through the layers of black he wore to find his face. You’d forgotten the darkness to his skin, the grey hairs among his facial hair and the way his eyes were so torn, so scared and so hurt. But there was anger there too, and you recoiled, sure you’d finally fucked it all up and-

He picked you up, and you squealed in surprise. His arms wrapped around your waist, picking you up so you towered over his head. “Gabe!” you yelled, and he shook his head, pressing a soft kiss to the area where your chest armor did not cover. You blushed, confused until he dumped you onto the bed of the hotel room.

You bounced off the springs, confused and dazed at the fact Gabe Reyes had just thrown you onto the bed. You went to sit up and yell at him until he was abruptly on top of you, hands on either side of your head as his body pressed firmly against yours. Your eyes widened as he peered down at you, eyebrows pulled together in frustration. 

“U-Um…” you dumbly said, lost in how his eyes were trained onto you. You could see yourself in those brown irises, see his song twist and turn as they fought against the needles, against the fear that followed him. You could see the universe in his eyes, and you wanted to grab and hold it...hold  _ him.  _ Those brown eyes did not turn to address the distant explosion off near the payload, they did not turn to close the balcony door...no. They did not move from you. 

The universe was in his eyes, in him...yet he looked only at  _ you.  _

“Don’t say that about yourself,” he hissed, voice angry. You blinked away the sudden tears in your eyes, appalled with how quickly the water in your eyes were being restrained at his words. Of course in quite possibly the only time you would see Gabe, you would fuck it all up and ruin it. Of course you would upset him, ruining whatever you two had and-

Lips. Oh...those were lips on yours. You made a soft noise in surprise as Gabe’s chest pressed against your armor, his hands no longer on either side of your head. No, those hands were cupping your cheeks, holding you as closely to his face as possible. And his lips…

He was kissing you. Those warm, chapped lips you had never forgotten were pressed against your own, and you lay there, dumbstruck. Gabe seemed to notice, because he pulled away with a low, dark chuckle that made your cheeks heat up and your heart race. You watched his face pull away, memorizing the scars on his skin, the burn marks from a war possibly lost or won. And you watched his eyes go from your mouth to your eyes, slowly moving up your expression until resting on you.

Just you.

_ Only you _ .

“Let me show you what you are,” he murmured, voice low and deep. There was a huskiness to it, an obvious promise and suggestion. But he did not demand you give in. He did not demand you lay there and let him make love to you, no.

He allowed you a choice.

He always allowed you a choice, something taken from you in the past months of your life. The option of choosing was just that; an option. And more often than not, your destiny was written for you by hands that had never ever felt you.

But Gabe...Gabe felt you. He knew you.

He loved you.

And you swallowed, biting your lips in thought. He didn’t like that, and you stopped, looking to where the battle was being fought by your allies and then to him. He nodded, understanding. 

“I can’t let them die, Gabe,” you said, and he followed your gaze to the smoke rising from the streets, the smell of burning bodies. He reached up to his ear. 

“Sombra, come in,” he said, and there was no response. Gabe looked at you, and took a deep breath, letting out a long sigh. “ _ Dios mio,  _ fine. Boop Master 2000, come in,” he sighed, rubbing at the bridge of his nose. You let out a loud snort, and he shook his head at you. 

“Boop master 2000 reporting. What’s your position Hot Topic VIP? You disappeared,” Sombra called in, and you couldn’t help the warm smile on your face at the sound of her voice. 

“Retrieved Nightlight,” he said, and there was a pause. And then-

A loud squeal. A loud enough squeal that made audible interference ring loudly from Gabe’s earpiece, and he flinched. “Oh my god! (Y/N) is there? I haven’t seen her in  _ forever~  _ How is she? Ooh...oooh...lemme talk to her! Lemme talk to her!” she exclaimed, and you grinned at Gabe, who was clearly not as amused as you. 

“We’re busy, Sombra. Make sure no one gets killed, including X and Light, understood?” he said, and again, another pause.

“Are you two  _ fucking _ ?” she gasped, and Gabe swore under his breath, pinching the bridge of his nose as he stood up, turning his back to you. You sat up, giggling at the scenario. 

“ _ Dios mio,  _ just make sure no one gets fucking killed! Do you understand?  _ Yes or no?”  _

“Alright, alright, alright. No need to get so mad, jeesh. Do you need a condom? I know Light has some for after the mission so-”

“Goodbye Sombra,” Gabe said, before ripping his earpiece out of his ear and throwing it out the window. You watched it fly away, impressed with his anger. You opened your mouth, ready for a snarky comeback until Gabe’s hands were wrapped around your face, pulling you to him and-

You kissed him, leaning into his touch and his lips. There was no tongue, no dirty play. No...just love. And that’s all you needed. 

And he pulled away, but no far. No, he leaned his forehead against yours, peering into your eyes. And you stared back, no longer concerned for your allies, not with knowing Sombra would prevent any casualties. 

“(Y/N), will you let me make love to you?” he whispered, and you looked down, swallowing roughly. You looked at his gloved hands, remembering the soft touches he’d given you. You remembered how he had held you to the ground, not letting the gun you held take your life. You remembered the way he held you as he took you away from the destruction he’d caused, the hell he had reaped.

You remembered his lips on your stomach, on the chub you were ashamed, of the scars you were embarrassed of.

Were you ready for this?

“Yes,” you said.

Gabe held your gaze for a moment, before nodding. And then he slowly pressed his lips against yours, and you responded, reaching up with absolute certainty as you took his face into your grasp. There was nothing sexual about the kiss, nothing scandalous as you held him and one of his hands took hold of your jaw. His thumb rubbed circles into your skin as his torso pressed against your chestpiece. 

And then it changed. His right hand moved from beside your head, and he was suddenly straddling your hips. But neither of you broke your kiss, not even as his hand quickly unlatched your gauntlet and threw it to the side. It hit the wall, crumpling to the ground and you silently apologized to Efi. And then his other hand came from your cheek and around your chest piece, unlatching it with scary accuracy and efficiency. 

Except this...this he didn’t throw. No. Gabe gently set it down to the floor beside the bed, careful to not damage it in any manner. That made you pull back from the kiss, breathing heavily as your chest heaved. You looked up at Gabe through your lashes, and he looked back. “That piece is what keeps you here,” he told you, and you couldn’t help the blush on your cheeks as you smiled.

“Among other things,” you playfully teased, poking at his chest. Gabe looked down to your finger, and then to what was below. You felt your face heat up as his gaze hungrily took in the skin tight black suit you wore, eyes resting on your breasts for much longer than other aspects. You bit your lip, shifting uncomfortably with the sudden attention. He noticed, brown eyes shooting back to your lips. There was absolute hunger in his eyes, a growing pressure against your pelvis as he stared longer. 

Heat zapped you as he suddenly pulled your face to his, lips eagerly attacking yours. No longer was the chaste innocence that you two shared present. No, Gabe nipped at your lips, fingers suddenly combing through your hair. He took a firm grasp of your strands, holding you to him ever so tight as his other hand pressed against the small of your back. Your skin was buzzing, electricity crackling between your fingers as you gasped as Gabe took his lower lip between his teeth and dragged it down. 

You knew your gasp was an open invitation, and he gladly accepted. Soon his tongue was sweeping through your mouth, a sloppy french kiss you moaned into, leg hiking up subconsciously. Gabe noticed, grinding his pelvis into yours. You gasped, and he moved his teeth from your lips to your neck, latching onto the patch of skin just below your jaw. He greedily sucked a mark into your skin, a slight pain that made a low groan rumble through your chest. 

“You like that?” he whispered into your skin, breath cold against the wet skin he’d just bitten into. You whimpered as he grinded down again, dick already incredibly hard. And you couldn’t say you weren’t incredibly aroused too, clit throbbing and begging for attention. “You want more, hmm?” he hissed as he moved his hand from your back to your ass, groping it. 

“Y-” you began, but Gabe nipped at the little bit of skin before the black suit began midway up your neck. Your leg hitched up higher, almost wrapping around his waist in a desperate cry for him to  _ fuck you now.  _

“Hmm? What were you saying?” he asked, taking the fabric of your suit’s turtleneck into his mouth. He pulled it down, head nearing your covered breasts now. The skin revealed to the world was covered in sweat, and you looked down as Gabe pressed a kiss to it. His eyes were on you, and you felt something shift in you at the intensity of his gaze. His dark skin was flushed, irises dark with lust and-

He was so hard.

You could feel him against you, feel how badly he wanted you. You could feel his breath on your skin, feel some warmth twist itself deep in your stomach. It was getting tangled, your clit throbbing to be rubbed and-

_ Fuck. _

You wanted to  _ fuck him.  _

As he pressed kisses up your neck, you leaned your head back into the pillow below your head. His hands moved up your sides, tracing them like an artist sculpting his masterpiece. You felt your heart race under his touch as he made you tremble, made you  _ ache  _ for him…

_ Fuck. _

“Such a good girl,” Gabe whispered, voice deep and low as he hovered his lips over your ribcage. He pressed a kiss to the covered skin, hands nearing your breasts. You could feel yourself shaking, getting wetter and more aroused as he moved, as he spoke, as he  _ breathed  _ for Christ’s sake. “Can you do what  _ Papi  _ wants?” You whimpered, and his hot breath hovered over your covered breasts. “Can you,  _ chica sucia _ ?” he whispered, sending goosebumps over your skin. 

“Y-yes,” you murmured, and Gabe hummed. 

“Ah, ah, ah...Can you do what  _ Papi  _ wants,  _ chica sucia?”  _ he growled, and suddenly you felt a nip at your where your nipple was. You let out a loud cry, looking up at Gabe now. He was smirking, pressing a soft kiss to where he’d harshly bitten. “Hmm?”

“Yes…”

“Yes what?” 

His tongue poked out, wetting your suit over your breast. You could feel the heat of his tongue as your skin throbbed. You swallowed roughly, holding his eyes with your own. “Yes,  _ Papi,”  _ you replied, feeling him shift over you. His hardened member dug into you a bit more and you couldn’t help grinding up into him a bit at the touch, desperate for some attention and friction. The soft grind made his eyes flutter shut, a soft groan deeply rumbling from his chest. 

_ That  _ shot a wave of heat through your body, and you could feel your hum twist around you core tightly, not sure of what to do with these emotions. You could feel your veins burn with arousal as you wrapped your legs around his waist, rubbing your pelvis against his erection. Again, a soft groan came from his chest, but as you experimentally rubbed your labia against him. You could feel him rub against your clit  _ ever so slightly,  _ and you couldn’t help the soft moan that came from your lips. 

He chuckled as he pressed his head against your neck, breathing onto your throat. “Mmm...ya like that?” he asked, pressing a kiss against your skin. You whimpered, crying out as he bit you, not hard enough to leave a mark but hard enough to get a reaction. He dragged his tongue over the affected area, pressing a chaste kiss over it when done. You took a deep breath, trying to steady your rapid heartbeat, looking down at the man you loved enough to grant him passage to your body, a temple so often defiled it found little care and even less love. His brown eyes were trained on you, bright even as he grinded himself against you, rubbing against your clit ever so slightly once more. Again, a soft moan came from you as you leaned your head back into the pillow, eyes squeezed shut.

“Keep doing that,” you whispered, surprised you could even speak, let alone breathe. He chuckled, pressing another kiss just above your suit. 

“Yeah?” he asked, hands taking either side of your torso. They cupped your just below your breasts, tracing the edges of your body as they dipped lower and lower. Another kiss to your throat, hands on your hips, your clit  _ throbbing and begging  _ to be touched and-

One hand cupped your ass, resulting in a loud gasp just as he traced just above your clothed slit. You whined loudly, rutting up into his hand for the friction you so desperately needed and…

He bit down on you, and you yelled out, his hand now cupping your labia. You could just feel his hands through your suit, yet longed for his fingers to be on your bare cunt. You wondered if he would find you ugly, find your vagina repulsing, or the hair you had as a turn off. You swallowed roughly, trying to just focus on his touch as you reassured yourself. He wouldn’t do that, right?

Gabe seemed to notice how you suddenly stopped moaning, stopped leaning into his touches. He stopped, hand drifting away from you as he moved his head from your throat to look you directly in the eyes. Fuck...those eyes could see right through you, see through the glow in your veins just to see the shadows. You bit your lip, mustering an apology before- “What’s wrong, cariño?” he asked you, hands now on your waist. 

“Nothing,” you said, shaking your head. You needed to get over this...to get over these dumb, irrational feelings. You needed to be okay, needed to not make everything so difficult. So you smiled up at him, reaching forward to rub Gabe’s cheek. But his own hand caught yours, intertwining his fingers with your own. 

“Nothing means something. Do you want me to stop?” he said, and you shook your head, laughing softly.

“No, God no...it’s just…” you stopped, letting out a loud sigh. You turned your eyes from his, down to your arms. There were so many scars there, and everywhere else. There were aspects of you that you did not like, that society found disgusting, repulsing. There were so many things wrong with your body, with your mind. And Gabe… You looked back to him, to the curls of his hair, to his high cheekbones and bright eyes. He was a beautiful man, one you could never fully understand was yours. 

You were so thankful for him, for his kindness he tucked away behind his mask. But it was hard to understand...hard to accept… Why would he choose you? He was handsome, and powerful. He could have whatever woman he wanted, whatever man he desired. But here he stood...ready to make love to  _ you.  _

“Why me?” you whispered, blinking away the insecurities behind your eyes. You stared at his chin, unable to meet his eyes. You knew what would be there… Disgust, anger and-

He leaned forward again, pressing his chest to yours. You could feel his heartbeat on the opposite side of your chest where your own heart beat, feel his warmth set you aflame from your lips to your toes. His eyes were above yours, lips hovering over your mouth. You could feel his breath, feel his core tug at yours in a way that left you breathless.

You could barely breathe, but he breathed for you. “You don’t understand do you?” he asked you, and you furrowed your eyebrows. “You don’t understand what I want to do to you, what I want to do  _ with  _ you...do you?” he murmured, and you shook your head.

Gabe leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “Let me show you,” he said, and you knew you could say no. You knew you could run out of here, run away from him and leave him behind in this plain room. You could leave this all behind, keep walking forward and kill everyone responsible for the massacre that landed you here.

You could get up and walk away.

“Okay,” you told him.

With one last kiss to your forehead, Gabe held your eyes as he moved his hands from your face down to your shoulders. You couldn’t move your gaze from him, not when he looked at you like that. Not when he looked at you like the world didn’t matter, like Talon controlled him.

“I want to do this to you,” he whispered, grabbing the neck of your shirt and ripping it right down the middle. You gasped at the sudden cold air against your chest as Gabe ripped your suit open all the way down to your waist. Your belt stopped it from ripping it any further, but Gabe was more than happy. 

He leaned back on your waist, looking at your exposed body like candy. You couldn’t help but notice how he wet his lips with his tongue, how there was more than a noticeable bulge in his pants. Your face was hot as you lay there under his gaze, and his core twisted and turned and tumbled and could not stop  _ moving.  _

“I want to rip your clothes apart with my  _ bare hands _ ,” he hissed as he pushed the rest of your suit off of your torso, leaving you with your torn suit hanging down by your waist and clad in just a bra. Gabe’s eyes flashed red, smoke slowly emitting from them as his core vibrated excitedly. You shuddered under that gaze, watching him slowly lose himself just by looking at  _ you.  _

And only you.

“I want to  _ devour you _ ,” he said as he laced his fingers under the band of your bra. He then proceeded to rip it in half, exposing your breasts for him to see. You cried out in surprise, and he stopped, but just for a moment, waiting for you to ask him to stop. But you said nothing, trying to ignore how your veins thrummed with want, with  _ need. _

He leaned forward, pressing a kiss just over your heart. His lips hovered there for a moment, before whispering a soft “I want you to know I would die for you” into your skin. You blinked back the happy tears in your eyes, swallowing the emotions that would surely tumble out.

Instead, you settled for a, “Me too.”

He chuckled, looking up at you under his lashes. His curled hair hung in his face, face losing some of its features. Sombra had explained to you that when he became emotional, it became harder to maintain his form, maintain his humanity. And you were okay with that. You reached forward, and rubbed at where he lost some his cheeks, revealing some jagged teeth. He seemed ashamed, jerking away, but pulled him back to look at you, red eyes and extra teeth and all. 

“I love you,” you whispered. “ _ All of you _ ,” you told him, and his eyes flashed again, the whites of his eyes turning black as his irises turned a startling red. “Fuck me, Gabe,” you begged, and he nodded, growling as he unbuckled your belt, throwing it off to the side. You gasped as he tugged your boots off, crashing against the wall and denting it. Your eyes moved from him to the mark on the wall he had made, but his hands gently wrapped around your face, moving your gaze back to him.

He was sweaty, breathless as smoke tumbled off of him. Teeth were poking out of his face now, skin drawn taut as he lost form. Little red eyes were appearing along his cheekbones, yet none of this made you afraid. No, instead you pressed a soft kiss to his nose. 

The fingers on your face became something more sharp, morphing into claws that gently traced the shapes of your face. He looked for something in yours eyes...possibly fear?

Only to find love.

“Make me yours,” you murmured, and his smaller eyes became lidded, his mouth closing slightly as he processed your words. “Please,” you begged, and he nodded, head drifting down your neck. His breath was hot against your skin, slowly ghosting down above your breasts. You swallowed harshly as he hovered over your erect nipple, seeming to tease you. You whined as your fingers grasped the sheets of the bed, restraining yourself from bucking up into his touch.

He chuckled deeply, tracing your areola with his claw. You hissed as he teasingly flicked it, clit throbbing and begging to be touched. “So impatient,” he mused, purposefully breathing onto you. 

A chaste kiss was pressed to your breast, a tongue peeking out just for a moment to toy with your nipple. It was wet and warm against you, promising pleasure and a sore throat when done with you.

And you wanted him  _ now. _

You moaned loudly, starved for contact as he continued to approach your waist. Your ruined suit lay gathered there, begging to be shucked off by his claws. But Gabe did more than that. He pressed another kiss just above where the fabric started, and bit down on the hem of your suit, dragging it down with his sharp and predatory teeth. You gasped, opening eyes you didn’t even were closed just to watch him. 

And what you saw made you throb and ache even harder.

He was looking at  _ you,  _ eyes never straying even for a moment as he pulled your suit towards your pelvis. Soon, your underwear peeked out from under your clothes, and his movements became more swift, rushed. As he approached your hips, he reached up with his hands, wrapped his claws around the inside of your outfit and  _ ripped  _ it down your legs, getting caught at your ankle.

Another satisfied gasp sounded throughout the room as he sat up, admiring your bare body. Your cunt was only covered by your underwear, visibly soaked. His nostrils flared as you lifted up your knees, awkwardly trying to shield yourself from his sight. Gabe’s eyes flicked right back to yours at the movement, eyes narrowing with dissatisfaction.

“Don’t hide,” he whispered, voice taking on a much more low, dark tone. You bit your lip, resting your legs back on the bed. Gabe nodded, letting out a pleased hum as he wrapped a claw around the strand of your underwear. He gently moved his claw from the strand down to where it covered your labia, claw cold against your flushed sex. You let out a desperate, needy whimper bucking up to be touched.

He chuckled, a throaty noise that made you shiver. “You ready,  cariño?” he whispered as got on his knees low on the bed, kissing up your exposed leg, tongue peeking out to wet your skin. You bucked again, a low whine in your throat. But at the movement, he bit into your inner thigh, sucking hard. You moaned loudly, fingers wrapping around the sheets as tightly as you could. 

“Mine,” he growled, and you swallowed, harshly, nodding.

“Yours.”

And with that, he wrapped his claws around your underwear and swiftly pulled it down to your knees, exposing you to him entirely. Again, you instinctively went to close your legs but with a soft, “Ah, ah, ah..” he pried them open.

For a few moments, all he did was stare, something that made your heart race and veins glow bright white in fear. He said nothing, and did nothing as he took in your sex, took in your most private aspect of your body. You swallowed roughly, moving your hands from the sheets. That seemed to snap him back, and his red eyes flickered to you, smoke billowing out of them and off his body. 

“S-sorry,” you said, sure you had fucked everything up now. But when he saw you, his eyes seemed to return to brown, face almost normal as he stared at you. The claws that were softly prodding your skin turned into fingers, rubbing circles into your thighs.

“You’re beautiful,” he whispered, leaning down to press a kiss to your pelvis. You couldn’t help the smile on your face, but it turned into an open mouthed moan as you squeezed your eyes shut, Gabe’s tongue drifting down just over your clit. The tip of his tongue poked out onto the sensitive nub, prodding it with just a hint of pressure.

With a whine, you bucked up into his mouth, promptly him to press a soft kiss to it. You groaned angrily, and he chuckled, nostrils flaring as he took in the scent of your sex.

“You have no idea how many hours I’ve spent fantasizing about this,” he whispered as he moved one hand to your waist, and the other over your slit. You whimpered, grabbing your pillow as his finger dipped past to trace your vulva. A noise came from your chest as his warm fingers finally touched you, finally experimentally dipped into your vagina. A scandalous, wet noise came from your vagina as one of Gabe’s fingers slid into you, finding little resistance.

A twisted groan came from him at the noise, and you opened your eyes to see him watching your face. You held his eyes with yours, wide and pupils blown with arousal. However, your gaze moved from his brown eyes to see him palming himself through his pants. A wicked grin came on your face, and you bit down on your lip, ready to make a comment when Gabe’s finger twisted up and hit _ something. _

_ “OH!”  _ you cried out, hips bucking wildly as your fingers grabbed the pillow under your head. You breathed loudly as Gabe slowly began to pump his finger in and out of you, brushing against that  _ something  _ with each motion. 

“Mmm...such a good girl… You’re  _ so  _ fucking wet,” he groaned as he leaned forward, pressing another kiss to your clit. Finally, fucking finally, the flat of his tongue dragged itself across your clit, making you cry out again. A strike of pleasure twisted itself deep in your stomach as you bucked up into Gabe’s tongue. He moaned, the vibrations making you quiver and shake. “God, you’re so fucking hot,” he whispered, breath making your legs tremble. You felt another finger be added to your entrance, Gabe scissoring you for a moment to stretch you and prepare you.

You felt the soft burn of being stretched, but as Gabe locked his lips around your clit and  _ sucked  _ you didn’t even notice. You let out a loud cry, feeling a forgotten heat build up deep in the pits of your stomach. You could feel sweat drip down your legs, feel yourself getting wetter and wetter as Gabe continued to pump his fingers in and out of you, twisting them up to hit your g spot. You could feel yourself..

“You gonna cum, hmm?” Gabe asked, and you nodded, swallowing down another moan. “You gonna cum for  _ Papi,  _ huh?” he said, and you nodded, a breathless whimper on your lips. He began to pump his fingers out of you faster, consistently hitting your g spot. The noises your vagina was making only made you tremble harder…

“Please, please, please oh  _ God… _ ” you moaned, turning your head as you bit onto your arm. You could feel the coil deep into you start to unwind, feel yourself start to shake as a scream built up in your throat.

And then....he stopped.

You frowned, swallowing your scream with disappointment as you stopped biting your arm. “Gabe?” you asked, lifting your head to see him press a kiss at one of your scars. Confusion replaced the heat in your chest, and you opened your mouth, ready to ask him if everything was okay when..

His tongue replaced his fingers, delving deep into you. Your head immediately hit the pillow as you wrapped your legs around his head. “Fuck!” you yelled out, his tongue pumping in and out of you. “Gabe, fuck, fuck, fuck!” you moaned, and he moaned into you. 

He pulled out just for a moment, making you open your eyes to look down at him. You were trembling, sweat dripping down your face and and body. Your hair was tangled, strands sticking to your face as your chest heaved up and down. His mouth was wet, beard slick with your juices. And his eyes...his eyes were hungry, demanding more and more. 

“Cum for me,” he said just before he pushed his fingers back into you, twisted up to hit your spot just right. His mouth wrapped around your clit, tongue circling your clit in practiced motions as he hummed loudly. 

And you came.

Oh...you came.

A loud scream came from your throat as you felt your muscles spasms around his fingers and mouth, twisting and untwisting harshly as you came. His fingers abruptly left you only to be replaced with his tongue yet again, rubbing against your walls as you shivered for him, because of him.

Your eyes were squeezed shut, teeth harshly biting down on your lower lip to the point where you tasted blood. Your eyes fluttered open to see the ceiling, breathless and high off of your orgasm. “Holy shit,” you gasped, throbbing as you continued to cum. Gabe removed himself from you, and you looked down to see him rubbing away at…

“Oh my god,” you gasped, sitting up. His face was  _ covered  _ in your cum, and you felt hot embarrassment in your chest as you leaned forward, unsure of what to do. You felt hot tears in your eyes, ashamed of the fact that you had just cum  _ all over  _ Gabe’s face. But looked at you, that familiar smirk on his face. 

“Don’t apologize,” he huskily said, leaning forward to press a kiss to your lips. You confusingly kissed him back, tasting yourself on him. He pulled away, eyes holding yours. “I’ve spent hours imagining what you taste like, (Y/N),” he told you, his hand abruptly coming up to his mouth. He sucked on one finger, letting go with a satisfying  _ POP  _ as he let out a low groan. “And nothing could live up to that,” he admitted, and you smiled, playfully taking one of his fingers into your mouth. A salty flavor graced your tongue, and you moaned around his finger, closing your eyes in pleasure.

You could already feel your clit throbbing as you opened your eyes to see Gabe’s eyes trained on your mouth. You grinned wildly, letting go of his finger with another loud squelch. “Mmm...pretty good,” you hummed, and Gabe’s eyes narrowed with a chuckle.

“You’re evil,” he replied, and you rolled your eyes, reaching up to take his face into yours. You pressed a kiss to his lips, taking his lower lip between your teeth. His eyes fluttered shut at the motion, a soft groan lost in you as you reached down. Your fingers skimmed across the bulge in his pants, begging for release. 

“Only to you,” you whispered to him as you grabbed his erection through his pants. He let out a strained groan, eyes screwed shut as he leaned forward. His head rested on your shoulder as you traced the length with your fingers, teasing him. 

Gabe had pleased you...it was time for you to please him.

You pulled back to undo his belt, and he got the clue. Gabe reached up and shrugged off his weird, dramatic cape, throwing it to the ground beside your gauntlets. He then undid his chestplate as you pulled open his zipper, reaching into his pants to take his dick into your hands. You were surprised to find him going commando, a fact that made you grin wildly and look up at him. He looked sheepish under your gaze, cheeks softly pink as he swallowed.

“Umm...Sombra tipped me off on you coming here. I didn’t believe her but-”

You kissed him to shut him up. “Shut up, and let me suck your dick,” you murmured, before pressing a kiss to his cheek. You abruptly pushed him down onto the bed, grabbing his pants and pulling them down to his knees. His dick sprung free, fully erect. Precum glistened at the tip of his head, and you leaned forward, pressing your tongue flat against him. He let out a loud groan, and you looked up to see him grabbing a fistful of his hair, pulling harshly. You chuckled, pressing a kiss to his tip. “Kinky, huh?” you mused, before wrapping your mouth around him.

He groaned again, a noise that made your clit throb. “Oh, you have  _ no  _ idea,” he sighed, and you hummed in response, sending vibrations around him. Another strained groan came from his mouth as he bucked up into your mouth. You greedily took him...as much of him until you couldn’t. But what you couldn’t take in length, you made up for with in pleasure.

You opened your eyes, seeing his eyes trained on you. His cheeks were flushed, mouth open with soft moans as he pulled on his hair. You dragged your tongue from the bottom of his dick up to the tip, something that made him squeeze his eyes shut with a loud moan. 

Fuck… You couldn’t help yourself. You slid your free hand down to your clit, rubbing it. Now, as you took him back into your mouth, you found yourself moaning as you got yourself off, unable to cope with how hot Gabe was as he came undone underneath you. 

Soon, the salty taste of precum graced your tongue. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum,” he groaned, smoke billowing out of his shut eyes. He began to lose form again as he came closer and closer to release, and that only prompted you to speed up. You slid one finger into you, bouncing up and down on it as you wrapped your lips around his tip, tracing his slit with your tongue. “ Mierda, sí, así, bebé. Tome papi profundo-oh, mierda, right there!” he called, and you took him as deep as you could and  _ hummed.  _

And then he wrapped his fingers around in your hair, pulling you back. His eyes were a bright red, smaller eyes lining his skin underneath them as he peered at you. His mouth was pulled into a snarl as his nostrils flared, smoke billowing from his eyes and cracks in his skin. Despite his monstrous appearance, you found your clit throbbing and heart pounding. 

As his nostrils flared, his eyes drifted from your face down towards your vagina, spotting your hand down there. This...did not settle well with him. With a growl, he hoisted you up, biting down just below your jaw. You cried out, fingers digging into his back as he lay you down on the bed, back where you were just moments before. His tongue soothed his bite, and as he pulled back he brought up his finger to your face. 

Just as he always did, he rubbed at the crease to the side of your eye. Even when he no longer appeared human, his core sang otherwise. His core sang of loneliness, of betrayal and pain as it twisted, looking for something to latch onto. The universe had made him its kin, just as it had made you the same. You two were barely holstered here, only tied down by needles and each other.

And that was okay.

“(Y/N)...” he said, hesitating. You knew he was asking permission, asking if it were okay for him to make love to you. And you reached up and took his hand, pressing a kiss to his palm.

“Go ahead, Gabe,” you whispered, nodding with a smile. “Make me yours.”

With a growl, he captured your lips for a passionate kiss. He then pulled his undershirt over his head, exposing his scarred chest. You pulled away from the kiss to look at his body. He was more than beautiful, more than deadly and dangerous as you reached up and lay your hand over his heart. It beat steadily under your touch, and you looked up at Gabe. He looked troubled, ashamed as he struggled to maintain form. 

“I love you, Gabe,” you hummed to him, sending the hum through your fingers into his veins. It made him glow a brilliant white, illuminating all his arteries, all his veins... _ everything.  _ You looked at what made him, the body that held him together. “All of you,” you told him.

He tenderly took the hand from his chest, making his body slowly lose your glow. He intertwined your fingers together with his, pressing a kiss to you hand. “And I love you, (Y/N),” he said, and you smiled, nodding.

“Then show me,” you whispered, and just as soon the tenderness appeared, it disappeared. A low growl came from him as he latched onto a familiar spot of your neck...a familiar weight that once hung you from the ground. Finally, as he reached into the nightstand beside you to retrieve a condom, he lost form. You could feel the rows of teeth on his face, feel his tongue become long and animal like. But this only made your clit throb harder, become wetter. You let out a soft whimper as he nibbled along where blankets had once been tied around, pressing kisses after soft bites.

“I love you,” he mumbled, English broken and distant. You swallowed as he moved his lips down to over your heart, biting and sucking there. You hooked your legs around his waist as he sucked a hickey over your heart, grinding your wet slit over his dick. At that, he leaned his head into your shoulder, biting down as he grinded down on you.

He was so long, so thick as he grinded his dick along your slit. The little bits of pressure on your clit made you cry out, wrap your hands around his torso. Your fingers dug into his back for purchase, head thrown back with loud cries.

Fuck, you wanted him in you.

“Gabe,” you breathlessly said, making him stop and look at you. Even far from physically human, his cheeks were flushed, skin sweaty. His curls were soaked with sweat, hanging in his face. And you reached up, tucking the hair behind his ear. You took a deep breath, and said, “Fuck me.”

In all the porn you’d seen, you’d never seen a man put on a condom as fast as he did after that. He put it on with so much skill and speed, you didn’t even have time to make a remark as he gripped his member, positioning it at your vagina. He looked up at you, waiting for your permission even when he could just pound into you for release. You nodded, hands locked around his neck.

Slowly, his dick entered you, stretching you. It burned at first, as you hadn’t had anything in you for a long time. Between attaining extremely dangerous powers and traveling six decades into the future, you hadn’t found time for masturbation or sex. But Gabe went slow, making sure you weren’t in any pain as you adjusted to him. 

He rubbed your clit as he slowly entered you, getting a few breathless sighs here and there. And then...he was in you, filling you to the brim. You moaned as he experimentally pumped in and out of you, seeing if you were in any pain. And Lord, pain was the  _ last thing  _ you felt as he pumped in and out of you.

He groaned loudly as he began to set himself at a steady pace, fingers kneading your clit. You moaned into his throat, pressing kisses along his skin. “Fuck, you’re so tight,” he groaned, and you hummed as he pressed you down into the bed, snapping his hips into you. You let out a loud cry as he hit your g spot, sending electric shocks through your body. 

Your eyes were squeezed shut, but obviously Gabe’s weren’t as he chuckled into your neck, pressing a kiss underneath your ear. “You’re glowing,” he whispered, and you opened your eyes to see that your arms had bright white veins. You felt embarrassed until Gabe adjusted his angle to pound into your g spot. And then you only felt  _ good.  _

You could feel the heat pooling in your stomach as he mercilessly fucked you into the bed, his voice whispering Spanish in your ear. You clawed his back, letting out loud moans as you felt your orgasm continue to build. His fingers continued to rub your clit, and the pressure you felt grew more and more intense until…

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” you screamed, and Gabe’s speed increased as he fucked you. His dick was hitting your g spot just right with each thrust, to the point where you felt your orgasm coming. Stars were flickering in your vision as you stared at Gabe’s face, his eyes trained on you. 

“Are you gonna cum for me, babygirl?” he asked, and you nodded, swallowing a moan. At that he chuckled, burying his head into the crook of your neck. “Squirt for me, babygirl. Squirt for  _ Papi,”  _ he growled as he bit down on your neck.

You couldn’t control the energy that ripped itself from your fingers, making the nearby lamps bulbs shatter as your scream echoed loudly. The doors the balcony slammed shut with an impressive bang as you called his name, fingers digging into his back as his veins glowed bright white. Your hum ran through his body, through his core as you felt your orgasm, approach, fingers sparking and heart beating as-

“Oh Fuck, Gabe!” you screamed as your orgasm took over. You felt your muscles contract around Gabe’s dick as he continued to hit your g spot. Your vision flashed white as your body twisted around Gabe’s, your head thrown back and eyes squeezed shut as you let out a loud, long moan.

It was just a moment after you came did Gabe’s breaths became labored, breath hot and quick on your throat. You breathlessly laughed, and bit his earlobe. “Cum in me, baby,” you murmured, and he growled an ‘Oh shit’ until he went abruptly still. 

And then…

“Fuckkk,” he moaned as his hips bucked wildly in you, and you suddenly wished the condom he wore wasn’t on. You wanted to feel him fill you up with his cum, and you wanted to feel it drip down your thighs. Smoke poured off of his body in thick clouds, making the room go dark as he spasmed inside of you “Fuck, I love you so much,” he groaned into your skin, and you moaned as you felt him cum into the condom. 

“I love you too,” you moaned into his neck as he pulled out of you. You couldn’t help but blush at the loud squelch that came from you as Gabe pulled out, rolling onto his side beside you. 

You didn’t remember when he became naked, but as he lay there, arm around your head as he came down from his high, you didn’t care. He was beautiful under your gaze, body sculpted from years of war and battle. Even as you throbbed and dripped your own cum, you couldn’t help but bring your fingers up and trace the scars on his chest. There were intense burn scars that caught your eyes, and you leaned forward to press your hand to them. 

“What happens now?” you asked him, and he chuckled, taking off the used condom and throwing it into the trash can beside the bed. You looked up at his face, sure you had just messed everything up. But Gabe leaned forward, bring a hand to your face. And just as he always did, he rubbed beside your eye. 

“You find the bastards who did this to you, and you kill them,” he said, and you nodded, casting a gaze towards the balcony, peering through the crack of the somewhat ajar doors. Smoke rose into the sky as the destruction of the battle that was just fought took hold of the empty city. You wondered how many people died today, if any of your friends had been among those numbers. 

But instead of licking your fear, you swallowed it, turning and burying your head into the crook of his neck.

“Right now...can we sleep?” you asked, and Gabe hummed, the rumble of his chest resonating through your body. He pressed a kiss to the top of your head as he reached to the side of the bed, pulling the blankets once cast aside now over the two of you.

And, as Numbani burned, you buried yourself into Gabe’s chest, and fell asleep, intertwined with him.

* * *

 

You woke up to a loud crash, making you jerk awake with wide eyes and your hands tingling with pure power. Gabe jumped to his feet, throwing out his arm to protect you from whatever the hell was coming your way. 

And that’s how Sombra, Lesedi and Hoshi entered the room to see Gabe, dick out and everything, ready to fucking murder them. 

Sombra screamed at the sight, turning away as she dramatically sobbed. Lesedi burst out laughing, punching Hoshi’s shoulder. Hoshi looked more annoyed than anything as she cast a dirty look to her friend. “My wallet is in my locker,” she plainly said, and Lesedi let out an ugly snort. 

“Well you owe me $20. I may be a lesbian, but I know a big dick when I see one,” she laughed, and Hoshi sighed, rolling her eyes as Sombra pretended to puke in the corner of the room. Gabe rolled his eyes and turned his back to them, earning another fake session of Sombra puking at the sight of his ass, which you personally thought was quite nice. 

At the sight of your friends, you went to throw the covers off only to remember your situation. Gabe caught your panicked look, and sighed, reaching under the bed to pull out his luggage. He flipped it open and pulled out a large black t shirt, throwing it to you. You quickly pulled it on, and got to your feet, smacking Gabe’s ass as you ran over to your friends.

You quickly embraced Lesedi, who picked you up and spun you around with a loud squeal. You laughed manically as you flew through the air, a bright grin on your face as the taller woman set you down. Without the haze of battle, you could finally look at Lesedi without fear of being shot. And Lesedi...Lesedi was always gorgeous, but now her curly hair was pulled back into dreads, and scars adorned her skin. At the sight of your worried face, Lesedi rolled her eyes. “Pshh...Scars are hot! Right, Hoshi?” Lesedi asked, elbowing the other woman. 

You looked over to Hoshi, who looked less than amused. Her lips were thin, arms crossed as she glared at Lesedi. But once her gaze moved to you, her expression softened. She leaned forward into a bow, bowing her head to you in a slight nod. You copied her movement, and when you both returned upright, she spoke. “It is good to see you again,” she said, and you smiled. Hoshi had always been formal, but you knew she cared. When you were in Talon, you did not show weakness. Lesedi was just special in how she acted, you supposed.

“We were so worried about you,” Lesedi said, making you turn and look at her again. Her expression was torn, and she shook her head. “When the attack happened, so many people died. And we thought…” Lesedi took a deep breath. “We thought you did too.”

“Talon declared you KIA,” a familiar voice said behind you, and you turned with a leap in your chest. Sombra stood there, in all her purple glory. You couldn’t help the happy tears that welled up in your eyes as you saw her not through a video call, but in person. The last time you had seen her had been over a month ago, and even then it was quick and short in fear of Overwatch catching her. She rolled her eyes. “Wasn’t hard to hack into surveillance and see that Overwatch took you alive,” she snorted, and you stood there, unsure of how to react.

“I’m alive,” you said, shrugging with a smile. Sombra nodded, eyes flicking from you to Gabe as he buckled his pants. Smoke billowed off of his taut back, and Sombra winked at you with a knowing smirk. “And you seem to be very well.”

You blushed, sheepishly grinned as you crossed your arms. “Yeah…” You caught Gabe throwing a look at you over his shoulder, clearly curious on what you were going to say. “ _ Very  _ well,” you replied, and Sombra let out a loud laugh, bringing you in for a hug. You wrapped your arms around her, tightly holding onto her.

“How was he?” she whispered in your ear, and you pulled back with wide eyes. She threw back her head with a mischievous laugh, tapping your nose. “You would not  _ believe  _ all the things he says in his quarters when-”

“Okay, that’s enough Sombra,” Gabe sighed as he pulled on his shirt. You giggled wildly, and Sombra shot you a knowing look.

“Message me,” you told her, and she nodded. 

“The mission?” Gabe asked, clearly switching back into his other persona under the watching eyes of Sombra and your friends.

“A success in that no one in Overwatch was killed. A failure in that we didn’t get the gauntlet,” she mused, bringing up footage from the attack in the air. You leaned forward, never not impressed with the huge leaps of technology from your time to now. 

You saw when you’d attempted your flank, and when Gabe whisked you away. But after that…

What came after that made your chest  _ throb.  _

Out of nowhere after you left, Soldier arrived and shot out the shield, effectively allowed McCree to use Deadeye and eliminate all of the Talon agents. Lesedi had hidden from McCree, thankfully, but barely in time. 

The battle had been long as Overwatch escorted the gauntlet back to their HQ, yet no one died. You could see how Sombra pulled the strings, sometimes hacking into Talon agent’s guns to not allow them to shoot and so on. You went to thank her, but she shrugged. 

“Listen, if it meant Grumpy here could get laid, I’d do it again,” she said nonchalantly, and Lesedi rolled her eyes with a loud huff.

“Yeah, forreal. He gets nasty when he’s horny,” she said, and everyone shot her a look. She shrugged, crossing her arms. “Listen, I’m just saying what everyone’s thinking,” she told you. 

“ _ Thinking,”  _ Hoshi reminded her, and Lesedi shook her head again.

However, what happened after the battle was what stuck with you. Long after the battle had been won, Soldier came back to where you had disappeared. He had searched the area with Tactical Visor, trying to find something. And when he didn’t find it, he collapsed to the ground, taking off his mask and throwing it to the ground. 

You frowned, swallowing roughly. “What...what was he looking for?” you meekly asked, hum throbbing with guilt and sadness as you watched him shake. 

Sombra looked to you, and then back to the footage. “You,  _ chica,”  _ she replied, and you closed your eyes, nodding as you fought back tears. You ran your hands through your hair and over your face, shaking your head. 

You turned to face Reaper, who was looking at you through his mask. You held his gaze for a moment, and you knew he understood. 

“I need to go back,” you whispered, and Sombra threw the screens to the side incredulously. 

_ “What?”  _ she asked, voice shrill with disbelief. You furrowed your eyebrows, turning to face her but she spoke for you. “After everything they’ve done to you, and you want to  _ go back?”  _ she hissed, face angry. 

You scoffed. “What  _ they’ve  _ done to me? Don’t be fucking stupid, Sombra,” you hissed, throwing out your arm. Her eyes moved from your face to your skin, catching sight of the scars, of the needle marks. “You see this? Talon did this. They gave me this fucking addiction, they gave me this trauma, they gave me those blankets I used to fucking  _ hang myself,”  _ you growled before dropping your arm back down. You turned your back to her in disgust, shaking your head as tears dripped down your face.

The memories of the inability to breathe, the helplessness you felt as your toes danced along the edges of the floor in search of purchase. The memories of the needles in your skin, of the rush of being  _ okay  _ surged through your veins…

Talon did this to you.

Not Overwatch.

You looked back up at Reaper, who nodded to you. 

Not Soldier. 

A hand was on your soldier, and you jerked around to see Lesedi there. Your anger dissipated as you saw her, and Hoshi behind her. Her expression was kind, understanding as she rubbed circles into your skin. “We understand. Which is why we brought you one of the spare suits we have for missions,” she told you, and Hoshi stepped forward, holding up a black outfit. You recognized the stitching, and you reached forward, taking the fabric into your hands. It felt familiar, felt of the cold floor against your feet and toothpicks pricking your feet. 

“I didn’t think I’d wear this again,” you mused, and Hoshi looked up at you under her eyelashes.

“And you will not. Not after this,” she told you in an attempt to reassure you. Her words were rare, yet when they came forth, they were strong. You smiled at her in thanks, and she nodded, stepping back as you took the suit. 

“What do I tell them?” you asked, looking back towards Reaper. 

“You tell them I took you, and you ran away,” he said, and you furrowed your eyebrows, looking back to the suit. 

“They’ll know that’s not true. They know how much I love you,” you whispered, and Lesedi hummed loudly. You caught her eye, confused as she gestured to your neck. You reached up and rubbed at where she gestured before looking in the mirror only to see… “Gabe, babe, what the fuck,” you gasped at the sight of the hickey. No way could you hide that. No fucking away. 

Lesedi burst out laughing again, doubling over from the force of her snorts. Hoshi cracked a soft smile, turning away to hide it. And Sombra...Sombra clasped you right on the back, sighing. 

“Umm...use magic voodoo on them?” she suggested, and you shot her a glare. 

“I’m gonna use magic voodoo to make you shut up,” you threatened, and she gave you a long look, clearly daring you to do such a thing. You shrugged, and sighed, “Worth a try.”

“We need to get going. They’re leaving in two hours,” Reaper interrupted, and you looked to him. His song was strained, sad as it reached for you through a cage it had been restrained to. You caught his eyes through his mask with yours, and those brown irises begged...begged for one more night, one more day, one more  _ forever _ …

Sombra seemed to notice the air change, as she took a few steps back, hands on both Lesedi and Hoshi’s shoulders. She stepped back, the other two girls following. “Uh...we’ll give you guys some privacy,” she said, opening the door as she pushed both her and the others out.

You distinctly heard Hoshi say, “Do not touch me again or I will cut you” before the door shut, leaving both you and Gabe alone. The two of you stared at each other, words lost to the cores that made you. 

You swallowed, looking down to the uniform. Did you really want to wrap yourself in Talon again? Did you really want to become their property once more? You didn’t notice you were shaking until Gabe’s hands rested themselves on your shoulders, startling you out of your thoughts. He saw your fear, saw your pain even when it was tucked away deep inside you. 

“You’re not theirs. You will never be theirs,” he reminded you, clawed finger resting beside your eye.

You leaned into his touch, nodding as you closed your eyes. He held you for a moment, as the world around you burned and reality crept back under your bare feet. 

“I know,” you whispered. You opened your eyes, and reached behind his mask with your hand. You held his cool face to your hand, and pressed a kiss to his claw. 

“I’m yours.”

* * *

 

Bodies lined the street as you roamed through them, some burning and some merely decomposing. The smell haunted you as you stumbled through the streets, following the path Sombra had inputted into your visor. The directions were clear, but the smell of war haunted you as you tried to make your way back to the Overwatch HQ.

Sombra had told you a number of the team had already left with Doomfist’s gauntlet, yet a few remained to make sure the area was stable. Sombra also informed you Soldier had insisted on staying for one more day in case “she comes back”. 

But as you stumbled through the streets, breath quick as you tried to ignore the death around you, you wondered if you could make it back. The utter destruction that had been caused was left and right, in front and behind you. The smell singed your nose, and the soft cries of abandoned Talon agents resounded in your ears.

Tears swam in your vision as you left Reaper behind, left your friends behind. Tears swam in your vision as you looked at the agents around you, some faces burnt away and some caught in an inescapable nightmare.

But you would be okay.

You would be okay. 

You kept moving forward, not looking behind you as you moved forward. You had to get back to Overwatch, get back to the warm bed Angela surely made for your return. You could have tea with Hanzo late at night, watch old Westerns with McCree, game all night with Hana and clean your weapons with Soldier.

Soldier…

You came to where you had flanked the enemies, to where Soldier had collapsed and mourned a loss that didn’t exist. You looked at the abandoned Talon bodies you had put a bullet in, trying not to see their face as you turned the corner and…

A blue jacket. You stopped, unsure of what you were saying.

A blue jacket caught you sight, hidden away in the small room to the side of the street that had led to the payload. You frowned, slowly walking forward and peering around the corner-

A gun was suddenly in your face, and you stepped back, hands up in a surrendering position. Your eyes widened, mouth open and muttering gibberish as you mustered some pathetic excuse only to see-

“(Y/N)?”

“Soldier?”

The gun lowered, revealing the old man in his blue jacket. His grey hair was sticking up, coated in dirt and blood. His jacket had burn marks and cuts, and you wondered what he had been through.

He stood there for a moment, and the two of you merely stared at each other, not saying a thing. Until finally...He holstered the gun, crossing his arms. For a few moments, Soldier merely looked at you through his visor, and you awkwardly cleared your throat, shrugging.

“Hey!” you said loudly with a soft laugh. “Guess what?” Nothing. “I’m not dead!”

“You have some fucking explaining to do,” he hissed, jabbing his finger into your chest. You backed up, shrinking away from his anger. But honestly, what else did you expect? “Do you know how much you scared us? We thought you were fucking  _ dead,”  _ he yelled, and you shrank back under his rage. “You made Hana  _ cry,” _ he growled, and you made a mental note to apologize to her later and buy her a new game or bake some cookies for her with Hanzo.

“I’m not!” you insisted, and he reached up, pinching the bridge of his nose as he cursed under his breath. You reached forward and took his hand from his face, laying it over your heart. “I’m really alive! See? That’s a beating heart.”

Soldier tore his hand away.“I know you fucking are, just…” He let out another long sigh, shaking his head as he calmed down. You licked your lips, frowning as you reached forward, putting your hand on his shoulder. He flinched at the touch, but once he saw it was you he looked back towards where you were last seen. “ _ I  _ thought you were dead,” he murmured, and you looked away, unsure of how to respond.

You didn’t think you were that important to Overwatch personally. Plenty of groups wanted you just because of the hum, because of the power that coursed through your veins. Hell, Talon had declared you KIA when Overwatch rescued you, not caring about clarifying any details for those who knew you. 

But maybe… Maybe Overwatch did care about you.

You felt a familiar tug on your core, something you’d tucked under the blankets back in a now empty hotel room. There was a soft song echoing in your ears, and you looked down to your metal fingers, remember that warm skin beside you, underneath you…

“I know,” you said. You looked behind you, over the bus in the middle of the street. A figure made of smoke stepped back, disappearing into the shadows. But not before raising a clawed hand. 

_ I love you.  _

You watched the figure fade away into the ruins of Numbani, and looked back to Soldier with a small smile on your face, inhaling and-

“I’m alive,” you breathed out.

_ I love you too.  _

  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> alrighty, i hope you guys enjoyed that haha!  
> please leave a comment on how the fic was! i haven't written porn before, so i hope i did okay :)  
> comment your thoughts, what you liked about the piece, and so on!  
> i also want to thank the wonderful Miss Nebula for beta reading this and helping me out!  
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> Leave Kudos if you enjoyed the chapter! The more kudos, the more I write :)  
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> <3


	18. Laughter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You get a tour of Overwatch, and a surprise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow i bet ya'll weren't expecting this thing to be updated.  
> long story short: i lost inspiration. i lost all motive to write this, and really lost love for overwatch. but im currently on a vacation, and ive been reading more, and im inspired again. i hope ill be able to update this more, maybe not as fast as i used to.  
> and i do have some big, exciting news:  
> im being published in an overwatch zine. the story featured is based off reader and is set around her experiences in overwatch. i do have a character based off reader in this story - and her name is rory. once the zine is out, i will post an update and link it!  
> a lot of other overwatch writers are being featured in this zine, and i am overjoyed to be featured in it.  
> so, dearest readers, please enjoy this chapter. it was literally months in the making  
> TRIGGER WARNINGS:  
> suicide mentions  
> drug mentions

After your meeting with Tracer, Angela had kept a closer eye on you. While pleased you had met another member of Overwatch, your reaction to seeing Lena, or Tracer,  _ happy  _ worried her. Her gazes lingered on you longer than before, notes being written down faster than before. 

You didn’t mind. After breaking down in front of Tracer, she had hugged you and held you as you sobbed, rubbing your back just like your mom had done. She was warm, a solid force wrapped around you as you fell apart. You broke in her arms, yet she held you together, whispering soothing things in your ear.

Once you’d finally calmed down, she had hung out with you in your room, chatting amicably about random things. Tracer insisted on turning a movie, and just relaxing while you healed and Angela ran whatever tests she needed. Not wanting to accidentally trigger you by turning on a more modern movie, she’d turned on a classic from your time…

“The Bee Movie?” you’d gasped as the movie had turned on. Lena had laughed wildly, curling up in the chair beside your bed. “I had actually respected you, Lena,” you’d giggled, curling up under your blankets. Even though Mercy had been drawing blood to test for any potential after effects of Talon’s drug, with Tracer and the damned Bee Movie playing, you’d felt more than comfortable.

Even after having a mini breakdown and just meeting Tracer, you’d been comfortable, happy even. The girl reminded you of a childhood friend, someone you could lean on. And you hoped for that to be true. You hoped for a friend among this mess that was your life.

You’d fallen asleep sometime during the Bee Movie, blissfully lost to the absence of thought. It wasn’t long until the grip of fear took hold of you in your sleep, grip tight and taut around your skin. Memories of what once was clouded your slumber, making you jerk and shake, phantom sensation of skin on your fingers and a weight wrapped around your throat, choking you.

But as you became tangled in the sheets around you, as the world flinched from your fingers, something new happened. No longer did you jerk awake with a cry, find yourself grabbing for something that wasn’t there. No, something reached out. Or someone...hand on your shoulder, lips on your ears.

_ It’s okay. _

_ You’ll be okay.  _

You hadn’t woken up, no. Instead, the clouds surrounding your dreams seemed to part before you. No longer did they wrap around your fingers. Now, they bent around them, barely brushing against the warmth of your body. And beyond the rain was the sun, bright and kind against you as it pulled you away from the shadows, soft words familiar yet forgotten.

You’d woken up to see Tracer asleep in the chair beside you, legs tucked up and head tilted down. Angela must have wrapped her in a blanket to keep her warm, the TV turned off. And asleep, Lena was just as beautiful as she was when she were awake. You wondered how she could be terrifying upon the battlefield, yet decided you didn’t want to find out.

With a soft sigh, you got to your feet, careful to not awake the other woman. The floor was cold against your bare skin, enough to muster a shiver from your frame. You rubbed your arms, shuddering as you wished for a sweater. You could ask Tracer when she woke up for something warmer, but for now, you needed a shower. Even though sleep had been sweet, you were covered in sweat from the nightmares that had existed, if even for a few moments. 

You approached the bathroom door, wrapping your hand around the knob when you felt eyes on your back. You released the door, furrowing your eyebrows as you turned your head towards the hallway. 

There he stood...the man from before. His figure seemed to linger at the edges of your nightmares, staring at you as you swallowed the water of the bucket your head was held under. He never held you down, no. He never tied the noose, no.

He simply stared.

Eyes hidden behind something...his visor, his eyelids, his fingers...

You hadn’t been feeling anxious, not until you locked eyes with the man. Your hand dropped to your side as you faced him, eyes narrowing in thought. You could feel your throat dry, feel your fingers twitch at your side. Threatened, you went to call on the hum. You stretched your fingers, prying through the rubble that separated you from the hum, from the universe. 

The hum did not peak through, did not set your veins aflame. You did not glow, and you did not shine. You were powerless. 

Tracer moved, leg kicking the table beside your bed. You jumped, hum scattering into the walls surrounding you as you jerked to look at the source of the noise. Tracer, still asleep, curled up into the chair she was in, letting out a soft, content sigh. You swallowed roughly, blinking as you tried to will away the fear and anxiety in your chest. Movement out of the corner of your eye, however, made you jolt back, fingers stretched as you called for the hum. You felt it swirl around your fingers, unsure of the vessel it coexisted with. 

You looked out in the hall, expecting to the see the man there as he were just a moment ago. Yet he was gone. That explained the movement.

With a deep breath, you pressed your hand to your chest, willing yourself to simply  _ breathe.  _ With the man gone, it was easier to take deep breaths, easier to open the door to the bathroom and shut it behind you. It was easier to sink to the ground, floor cold against your bare skin. 

That face...you recognized that face. It hovered at the edges of your dreams, watching you walk and turning when you tripped. Those hands held your waist, held your bleeding hands with promises of help, of a warm bed and- 

_ “Will she be okay?”  _

_ “I don’t know, Oxton. Whatever she did...it hurt her more than us.” _

_ “Do you think…” _

_ “That she did it on purpose?” _

You shuddered against the door, pulled your knees up to your chest. A memory? You never thought your memory was shabby, but the memories of how you ended up in Overwatch’s med bay were hazy at best. Did they drug you when cap...rescuing you? It was possible...or maybe you barely remembered what happened due to trauma, due to the pain you were in at the time. Angela had suggested that, and you had shrugged it off, continuing to eat your oatmeal at the time.

But now, shaking against the door, skin covered in goosebumps and heart fluttering with anxiety… Now you couldn’t shrug it off, not when your vision shook, your palms became sweaty and your thoughts got tangled up with one another.

Not now, you thought. Not fucking now. 

Not when Lena was curled up in the chair in the other room, not when Angela could be checking up on you any time. Not when the man was potentially still nearby, haunting you now even when awake.

Not fucking now. 

You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself as you pressed your hands against the floor, pushing yourself to your feet. Upon standing, you stumbled to the side, vision shaky and breath uncertain. You needed to sit down, needed to do something not suspicious.

Angela would be watching....she was always watching, like the man. He watched your bones break, watched your heart shatter and did nothing but stare at the pieces. How dare he watch you fall apart and not bend down to pick up the pieces.

How dare he watch you sleep, watch your body fight to live against the forces that pulled it apart. How dare he.

_ How dare he. _

You shakily stepped over the boundary of the bathtub, pressing your foot against the bottom. Your finger shakily wrapped around the bottom of your shirt, pulling the fabric up and over your torso. You wiggled out of your shorts, throwing both articles of fabric over to the corner. 

You don’t remember twisting the shower’s knob to release water, but you remembered collapsing onto the bottom of the tub, eyes trained on the wall in front of you. The hot water hit your body, scalding and burning yet you found barely enough in you to care. All you did was reach forward, slowly turning the knob to cool the hot drops of water drenching your body. You didn’t even care as you bra and underwear clung to your body.

No, instead you rest your head on your knees, closing your eyes as you merely existed.

There was nothing but you and the shower, nothing but you and your half nude body. Nothing except you and the universe wrapping itself around you in the form of the hum. It was once bright and electric, sparking your skin and setting you aflame. Yet now...now it was dull around your metal fingers, around your new body free of the drug.

Your fingers itched at the memories of the dull feelings you once held, the numb shell of your vessel you lived within. You had been powerful, something similar to a God, only dying from your own hands. 

You opened your eyes, watching water drift over your brow with morbid fascination. Your fingers reached up, feeling the water splash over your skin. The hum carefully rubbed itself along your arm, before wrapping around your finger. You contemplated setting the water aflame, destroying your vessel and letting your soul finally drift, at peace. But you knew you couldn't even if you wanted to. Your power was gone, the hum lost in the stars beyond your vision. You couldn't help but imagine, however...

There would be no man to watch you, be no one to betray and hurt you. The universe would finally be with you again, and you would be with it.

You would merely exist with your brothers and sisters, with your siblings who once had shape yet lost it to the age of death. No pain, no sadness, no needles you needed to stick into your skin…

Just that stars, and nothing more.

For you were never alone, not when there were galaxies and billions of stars to keep you company. You could count all of them, count them on the freckles of Lesedi’s face, the scars on Gabe’s body, the emotions in Hoshi’s eyes. 

You could count the stars on the bottom of the bathtub, finger flicking up and down with whispers from your lips. Clad in nothing but your underwear, you found yourself among the stars, tempted by death but never prone to it.

You were prone to living, even when you should not. When your lungs should deflate, they instead inflated. Your heart never stop beating, pupils never not dilating, blood never not rushing… You were irony stuffed into a body, an existence meant to contradict itself.

Was that good? Maybe if in the end, if you were able to put a bullet in the skull of whoever organized the Terrorist attack, between Morrison’s eyes. Maybe if you ended up waking up not sweaty, not seeing dead eyes whenever you looked into the mirror.

Maybe...but probably not. 

A soft knock stirred you from whatever train of thought you’d been sucked into, from the tunnel of thought your fears had restrained you to. You shakily looked up, taking deep breaths through the water dripping down your face. Your vision was blurred where the water ran over your skin, and you blinked it away, turning your head towards where the noise had originated. 

There was silence for a few moments, or as silent as the shower could be. You merely sat there, soaked and bare for the world’s angry touch. Your eyelids fluttered as you stared at the white door, waiting for whatever was bound to happen. 

And then there was another knock, that ‘whatever’ finally happening. Instinctively, and what you felt like was foolish, you flinched away from the door. It was as though a grenade had been launched, sending your heart racing and thoughts scattering. You merely sat there again, trying to breathe, trying to stay grounded.

You couldn’t let them know how fucked up you were...you needed them to trust you. You needed to be on the field, getting intel on the fucker that put you here in the first place. You needed to be strong, needed to hold it together and-

“(Y/N)? You okay in there?” Lena called, voice muffled through the wood. You swallowed the bees threatening to buzz up and sting your tongue.

“Y-yeah,” you murmured, turning back in on yourself. You reached up, grabbing your locks of hair and pushing them out of your face. “I’m fine,” you said, voice more steady now. It wasn’t convincing, no. But you hoped Lena would turn around, leave you to your own pain.

But Lena...Lena was a good person.

Even through all her pain, she was a good person. 

“I’m coming in okay?” she asked, the doorknob jiggling shortly after. You couldn’t feel ashamed, not with the stars stretching beyond your fingers and the hums of crickets bouncing in your head. You instinctively folded in on yourself, however, tucking the locks of your wet hair behind your ear. 

Her eyes were hesitant on your skin, somewhat relieved when she found you in your sports bra and underwear. But you knew it didn’t matter. Whatever your body was...it wasn’t yours. No, it belonged to the Earth, while your soul belonged to the universe. Your body would die, and your soul?

It dripped like the water on your back, reacted to the soft touch of Lena’s hand on your shoulder with a soft jump. But she shushed you, sitting on the edge of the tub. Her hands reached behind you, pulling a bottle of shampoo and conditioner towards her. You closed your eyes as her hands rubbed shampoo into your head after a moment, leaning into the touch like a starved animal. 

You longed for release from your mind, from your pain. So you leaned into Lena’s touch, counting the drops of water on your body and comparing them to the beats of your heart.

“It’ll get better,” Lena whispered, and you opened your eyes, blinking away whatever was in your eyes. 

“No,” you said. “It won’t.”

She didn’t say anything. 

 

The Overwatch base you were in was nowhere near as large as the Talon base you’d been in, but it was much more colorful, much more light. While Talon’s base had felt cold and hostile, with grey walls and clouds in a dull blue sky, Overwatch had green plants lining their white walls. There were portraits of people occasionally hung on the walls, as well, with names on a gold plaque underneath. 

The hallways were large, stretching on and on in their white infinity. It was the opposite of Talon - bright and saturated, promising with the hum humming instead of buzzing. You knew that here, the serial code on your wrist did not define you. The choppy strands of your hair did, the glow in your veins and the chapped lips you spoke with did instead. And you knew the paintings you passed wondered at who this stranger was, what this broken girl’s name was. 

Your eyes couldn’t help but linger on the faces of deceased members of the original Overwatch, and Lena oftentimes followed your gaze. You wondered who you would find on the walls, staring back at you with forgotten, fake eyes. A beautiful woman of Asian descent looked back at you, a middle aged black man standing proud and tall… 

And then-

Brown eyes that you could never forget, red in the void of shadows and smoke. That beard, the mess of locks on top of his head that you’d grown to recognize as  _ him… _

You stopped, your body recognizing the man in the painting before your mind even did. Lena continued bouncily walking in front of you, cheerful even in her silence. It took a moment for her to understand you had stopped following her, your lack of footsteps signalling your halt. You noticed her turn out of the corner of your eye, but you were too busy reaching up, fingers ghosting along Gabe’s painted jawbone.

He looked the same he did, but now his hair was more unruly, a tad bit longer and grey. His beard had greyed as well, some lines underneath his eyes. But the constant decay of his body had become too worn and tired to let him age, to let his body fall apart anymore than it already was. Those eyes, however...those eyes had never changed. They still held the fire they did in that painting...but why was he here?

“That’s Gabe,” you murmured, eyebrows furrowed as your fingers traced his lips. You missed him, missed the buzz of his core tugging on your chest. It was a constant reminder you were safe, that someone had your back. And now…

That was gone.

You were alone.

“Commander Reyes? Yeah, that was a long time ago,” Lena said, walking next to you. She clasped her hands behind her back, pursing her lips in thought. “You know him…?” she trailed off, an obvious question left to the stalemate of air. 

You chewed your lip, hand dropped back to your side. Memories of lips on your stomach, of fingers tearing that gun out of your hand rushed over you, drowning whatever coherent thoughts remained. You took a shaky, deep breath before nodding, throwing a look at Tracer over your shoulder. “Yes,” you said, trying to ignore her surprised look, turning your gaze back to the portrait of who Gabe once was..

Back before his body destroyed itself with each passing moment, tearing him apart from the inside out just to rebuild itself… Back before he was held captive by Talon, the drugs being his bonds, the key to his cuffs. 

Back before whatever happened to him, whatever twisted him into someone barely recognizable when compared to the painting you looked at now.

You could feel the questions on the air, skating across indefinitely. You were vaguely aware that Lena was staring at you, lips slightly ajar with questions with furrowed eyebrows. Her core hummed with potential possibilities, potential words and potential revelations. 

“Why is he here?” you asked, turning to face Lena. She looked at you, eyes bright and lips chewed. She looked troubled, as though she didn’t know what to say. But the question still stood between you two. You knew Gabe had a relationship with Overwatch...he had expressed his hatred towards the organization plenty. Talon had even taught you that Overwatch was worse than them, which was a hefty claim. 

Had Gabe been...apart of Overwatch? 

There was so much you didn’t know… There was a whole world you were ignorant of. You didn’t know if the Amazon rainforest was still present, if Puerto Rico was an American territory… You only knew what people wanted you to know. Freedom was something you left behind in 2016, and it drove you crazy.

With freedom came knowledge, and with knowledge came strength.

So you needed to know, and your gaze told Lena that. 

Lena furrowed her eyebrows, turning to face the portrait of Gabe. She opened her mouth to say something, but from somewhere, another voice spoke.

“He never did like that portrait,” a wise, elderly voice said. You forced your eyes from your savior, looking over to the source of the words. You were right about the elderly voice, as an older woman stood at the end of the hallway. Her grey hair was braided and tossed to the side, singular eye hidden by a patch. There was a nostalgic smile curling her lips, and you narrowed your eyes. “He thought that posing for a painting was something only kings did,” she hummed, slowly approaching both you and Lena. 

Lena smiled brightly at the woman. “Hey, Ana! I was just showing (Y/N) around,” she said, and Ana looked to you, narrow eye analytical. You could tell she was picking you apart, and you quickly understood that she must have served with Gabe. Only soldiers were so quick when it came to understanding people, especially recruits.

“My name is Ana Amari, former and now current Overwatch sniper,” she said, nodding her head politely. You returned the gesture before moving your gaze back to the painting of Gabe, eyebrows furrowed.

“You...know Gabe?” you asked, and Ana nodded, looking to him as well. 

“Yes, we served in Overwatch together,” she explained. “...before it fell, that is.”

“What happened?” Your question made Ana’s eyes narrow, and Lena hesitantly step in. Ana’s core sung a twisted song, one forged in rubble and smoke. You wanted to understand, to reach inside of her and live what happened to not just her but Gabe as well. But the glow in your veins stopped at the metal of your hands, and went no further. 

The loss of your hands set back your powers, and you hoped training would help you gain them back. 

“Well, I’m sure Ana has...things to do. I gotta show you the cafeteria next!” Lena enthused, hand wrapping around your wrist. You flinched away due to instinct, but it didn’t seem to affect the girl. Instead, her pointer finger wrapped around your metal one, and slightly pulled. Your gaze softened, and you began to follow, but not before looking back at Ana.

She stood in front of Gabe’s portrait, eye on you as you left. You nodded.

And she nodded back.

 

The overall color scheme of the base was definitely white, which felt much more different than the greys and blacks that made up the Talon HQ. It made you feel open, expanded past the borders that had once confined you. There were more windows as well, allowing natural light to bounce off the walls and the floor. 

Your eyes were oftentimes trained in front of you, preparing for some wild attack and betrayal carried out by Overwatch. You were still expecting Angela to spin around and drug you to perform experiments and tests. But the windows were accessways out - to the roof, past the walls, and more importantly to the outdoors. You longed to step outside, to feel the wind play with your hair.

The last time you were outside, your hair had been long, hands still flesh, and mind untouched. You had been free - able to sleep without nightmares, without screams, without absolute  _ fear.  _

And now you were here - in Overwatch’s current base on a tour with Lena Oxten. 

“You alright, luv?” the woman asked, and you realized she’d stopped. You had continued walking past her, head trained up in longing. You looked back at her, eyes wide in surprise and cheeks slightly flushed from embarrassment. 

“Shit, sorry,” you said. “I’m fine. Just...lost in thought.” Lena nodded, eyebrows slightly furrowed and lips subtly turned into a pout. Her eyes traveled up to the window you’d been staring out of, and she cocked her head, lips pursed.

“When were you last outside?” she asked, slowly walking to you with her head still trained up to the sky. You followed her gaze, chest tight with emotions you could never say. If you did speak your mind, you would never be allowed out, never find Jack Morrison.

So you said, “59 years ago.” It was a joke, but not one that Lena laughed at. Instead she scowled, humming to herself in thought. She stopped next to you, still looking up at the sky. You recognized the look in her eyes, as it was one you often saw in your own. She was thinking, and you wondered if it was negative, positive or…

Lena looked to you with a smile. “The cafeteria is right up ahead! I’m sure Reinhardt will be there. He always loves new recruits!” she said, and you nodded, offering a small smile in return.

She took off, and you followed her down the long hallway. It wasn’t far until the hallway splintered of into a large room. It was open all the way up to the second floor, revealing a glass ceiling. You gaped at the window for a moment before remembering that there was more than the sky. 

A number of metal tables with benches were on the floor, all currently unoccupied. You briefly wondered how many agents Overwatch had before deciding it was a lot. To the side of the eating area was a large kitchen. There was plenty of counter space and storage, with an oven and large fridge.

And there were people.

You stopped so you were just out of sight, fingers twitching at your side. All that you wanted was to feel the familiar hum in your veins, in your chest. But there was nothing besides an emptiness, a coldness. 

Lena stopped beside you, offering a concerned look your way. She followed your gaze to the kitchen, and understood almost immediately. “Ah,” she murmured before biting her lip. You knew she probably wanted to put her hand on your shoulder to reassure you, but she resisted. It would only make matters worse. “It’s just Reinhardt and someone else! They won’t bite,” she said, and you swallowed your fear, twitching your fingers.

New people...in the cafeteria…

You remembered the soldiers sitting at the old, metal tables in Talon, eating food and swapping tales of torture inflicted upon inmates. They would laugh, brag, and insult. They would look at you with disgust and want, share ideas of what they would do to you when you came out of the drugging room. You would trip, would stumble, and you would fall.

You remembered the room at the end of the cafeteria, always a shadow on your body. It would watch you, understanding its power and grasp. It knew you would come back - you had no choice in the matter. Even if you didn’t lust for the drug’s rush, you were forced to take it. It was easier to enjoy it, to feel it.

And you hated yourself for that. 

Lena stared at you for a few moments before offering another perfect smile, putting her hands up. “We could skip, if you want?” she suggested, and you looked away, coughing to clear your throat. 

“No,” you said, and Lena nodded, gesturing to the kitchen. You hesitantly stepped forward, mentally chastising yourself for being so cowardly, being so afraid. You had survived a terrorist attack, an imprisonment, a  _ suicide…  _ You could meet a few members of Overwatch for Christ’s sake. 

You approached the kitchen with Lena bouncing forward, going to see who was there. As you got closer, you caught view of a very large, tall man with a nasty scar across one eye. He was bent over some counters, conversing with someone else. You followed his gaze to see a very short man, just barely visible. 

“Reinhardt! Torbjorn! How’s it hangin?” Lena asked, and the large man, who you assumed was Reinhardt, looked to her. When he saw her he visibly lightened up, his eyes widening from a grin. 

“Ahhh! Lena! How are you, my friend?” he said, voice loud and boisterous. His arm left, reaching for a hug from the smaller girl. She giggled and teleported over to him. His hug lifted her off the floor a foot or two, yet he did so in a manner so she wouldn’t be hurt. In fact, Lena was giggling like mad, and even pressed a kiss to his cheek. You were still trying to calm yourself, and get used to Lena’s abilities.

“Reiny!” Lena cheered before teleporting back to your side. You jumped back in surprise, and she smiled apologetically towards you. Her arms lifted, gesturing to you as you stood there, awkward and unbelievably small under Reinhardt. But instead of looking at you with the disgust Talon soldiers had, he looked at you with a grin growing larger by the second. 

“Ah! A new friend!” he exclaimed before raising his arm to clap you on the back. You took a step to the side, and Reinhardt noticed, laying his arm down at his side with an understanding expression.

A soft groan from the other side of the kitchen caught everyone’s attention, and you all looked over the counters. A small man lay on the ground, appearing passed out. Empty plastic cups were around his body, and based n the number, he could stand his alcohol.

“Ah yes...that’s Torbjorn!” Reinhardt exclaimed, earning another groan from Torbjorn.

“For the last time….’m Swedish,” he groaned as he turned on his side, and you couldn't help but crack a smile. Reinhardt laughed loudly, the noise bouncing off the walls of the HQ and Lena even giggled too.

“We had a bit of a uh...drinking contest,” Reinhardt explained.

“And I take it you won?” you asked, and that grin came back on his face. You glanced over to see Lena looking at you, pride evident on her face. You briefly wondered why before Reinhardt interrupted your thoughts.

“Of course! German strength is absolute!” he said before flexing his muscles. That got a soft laugh from you again. “Don’t worry about him - he’ll be sober by the dinner tomorrow!” 

You furrowed your brows. Dinner tomorrow? You looked over to Lena and she met your gaze, not saying anything just yet. Her hand came behind you and she began to turn, waving to Reinhardt who caught onto the situation. “See ya later, Reiny!” Lena said as the two of you left the cafeteria abruptly.

You frowned, not saying anything for a few moments. Your chest swirled and twisted at the mention of a dinner, and you couldn’t help but wonder what would happen. Would it be your first drugging session? Would they drug your food and bring you to a white room, shove toothpicks under your nails and drown you?

Would they turn on you?

Lena saw that look in your eyes, and she spun you around at the foot of some stairs. You flinched at her touch at first, but the fingers on your shoulders were just ghosting. She was careful to not fully touch you, to not overwhelm you. 

Her eyes were wide with honesty, holding your gaze. She looked serious...sincere, and not at all like Talon. They oozed hatred, dishonesty and violence. They would do what they wanted to you, with or without your consent.

“Hey, I know that look,” she said, voice low and soft. “Nothing bad is gonna happen...okay?” You looked away, not believing her. Memories of the cold floor under your bare feet, of the white room and wood under your nails were all too painful, too relevant to forget and forgive. There was proof that Overwatch was good, and they’d tried harder than Talon to treat you well. But memories and pain lasted longer than the few days you’d spent in Overwatch.

And Lena knew that. 

Lena understood that. 

She saw your hesitancy to accept and believe her words, so she took a step back. You looked back to her now, and her lips curled up in that blasted smile of hers again - the mischievous one, the playful one. Confused, you tilted your head slightly and she took a few steps up the stairs behind her. “I have a surprise for you,” she said, and again, you were hesitant, but she did not look malicious. She didn’t have that twisted idea of what play was that Widow had. 

She was not Talon, Widowmaker.

So you nodded, taking a step up on the stairs. 

The hallway was long, with doors on either side. You weren’t surprised considering Overwatch had enough firepower to break into Talon and steal you. But it never really occurred to you how many people Overwatch consisted of. The brief history of Overwatch you’d learned was that it had been disbanded, and recently recalled. 

There would have to be lots of prisons if they were caught and jailed for recalling Overwatch. 

You were brought to the end of the hallway, Lena silent for the most part. She didn’t point out who was in which room, and you knew she was doing so to keep you from being overwhelmed. You were surprised of how aware she was when it came to your...trauma. It was hard to call it that, hard to accept you were royally fucked up after everything you’d been through. But you were appreciative - thankful that Lena was aware.

It made this whole thing much easier. 

You were pleased to see you were at the end of the hallway, which granted some privacy you were more than happy to receive. Lena looked over her shoulder at you before stopping in front of the last door, facing you now. She did some dramatic move to present the door to you, and you couldn’t help but smile. “And I present to you….” she said, voice lowered deeply to add intensity. She pushed down the handle, opening the door to reveal darkness. She reached in further and flicked a light, revealing…

You stepped inside, eyes wide. “Your room!” Lena cheered from behind you. 

Holy shit it was huge. 

The bed approached you almost immediately, but it was 10 feet away, allowing plenty of space. Just a few feet past the bed was a lil step down into a large, expansive area. A bathroom door was along the wall, and at the end of you room was…

“A balcony…” you breathed, and you knew you would lose form if your powers worked. You drifted across the floor, descended upon the stairs and approached the balcony door. The sun was setting at the moment, and a quick glance out revealed cliffs and the ocean. You pressed your hand against the class, feeling your chest quiver with happiness. 

“This is yours,” Lena said from behind you, and you looked at her, not turning your body from the balcony. She was standing next to your bed, looking at you with her arms crossed. A smile was on her face, but you knew she was hesitant, contemplating. She looked as though she expected you to run. “There’s clothes in your closet, and this weekend we’re going out to get you more. You can come. You can go outside. You can be free, (Y/N),” Lena said, stepping down the stairs.

Your heart soared, and you looked back out to the sunset. It cast brilliant colors across the sky, appearing as though it were a watercolor painting. You could jump. Sure there were the cliffs, but you could always find your way, find a way to be free. You could roam the world and see the new cities, see the new technology.

You could be free.

You turned around instead, and looked to Lena. She was watching you, curiosity gleaming in her eyes. She was expecting you to run, and she would let you. “Do you think I’ll run?” you asked, and she shifted, eyebrows furrowing in thought.

“I would,” she said, before pausing. Her lips pursed, eyes drifting downward. “I would  _ have _ .” You understood what she meant… Back when she was in your position, back when she lost everything...she would have run. 

You bit your lip, eyes trailing across your room before resting on a desk you’d been given. There was a black album on it...a familiar one. With a frown, you approached the desk.

You were right. The black album was familiar, so you flipped it open, revealing old photos. A gasp came from your throat as you saw pictures of you when you were a baby. There were photos of your parents, each one holding you when you were just a baby. You flipped the page, and saw yourself as a toddler, as a child. You were smiling, happy and carefree.

And then there were photos of you entering middle school, trying to be hip and fit in. You had cheeky grins that eventually turn into soft smiles, matured and aged. And finally it settled on you in your cap, graduating high school. Pictures of you with your friends, you with Justice, and you entering college littered the pages. 

They weren’t copies, and it wasn’t coincidence. You had put together the album….laying them out on your bed as Justice watched and slept on the floor. You’d been laughing at the photos, happy to see the past.

You had no idea what your future held.

“Where...where did you find this?” you murmured, voice cracking as tears welled up in your eyes. You had never thought you’d see your parents faces again, your friends again…. You thought you lost them to the news outlets, to what the news wanted you to see. You wanted to see the unaltered and genuine smiles, those genuine moments that defined your life.

And here they were.

“I stole it,” Lena said, suddenly appearing at your side. You didn’t jump...not this time. “Well...kind of. When we received word you were alive, the FBI reopened the case it had on you. I visited to get some information they had on you, and they showed me evidence. They had no use for the photo album...but you did,” she explained, looking over the pictures. She stopped and stared at the photo of you and Justice when they were a pup. Her lips curled up. 

“Thank you,” you bit out, swallowing a sob. You managed to tear your eyes from the album to look at Lena, and she met your eyes. You knew you must’ve looked like a mess… Your hair was choppy and messily cut, your eyes red from tears and bags under your eyes. And now you had tear stains on your face, but you didn’t care. You didn’t care at all. “Thank you so much, Lena,” you sobbed, and she nodded.

“I know how important the past is,” she said before reaching up, laying a hand on your shoulder.

You didn’t flinch.

After a moment, Lena nodded and teleported away in a flash of blue. She appeared at the top of the stairs, looking much more perky and like herself. “Well, I’m gonna leave you to it. I’ll let you get settled in. Tomorrow, at 6 there’s a dinner to welcome you. All the members currently here are gonna attend it, but you don’t have to come,” she told you, and you nodded, sniffling as you wiped away some tears. 

“Okay,” you said, closing the album before you began to cry again. “I’ll...see how I feel,” you said, and Lena sighed, understanding. 

“Get some rest,” she said, holding your gaze for just a few moments. Then, she turned and exited your room, closing the door behind her.

And for the first time in almost 60 years, you were alone.

With a deep breath in, you turned, opened the balcony, and stepped out.

The wind immediately played with your hair, whipping it around as it kissed your cheeks. You almost fell from happiness, and instead threw your arms out. The wind pressed itself against your hands, and whipped your clothing around. 

You could run… You could jump and maybe end your life, end this pain. You could be free, find Gabe and run away together. You could do whatever you wanted.

So, you did what you wanted.

You laughed. 

  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey hey hey...you guys like it? i am pretty fucking happy and proud of myself for posting this  
> im sorry for any mistakes - im currently beta-less  
> LIKE WHAT YOU READ?  
> leave kudos! kudos help this fic get noticed!  
> REALLY LIKE WHAT YOU READ?  
> leave a comment! comments mean everything to me, and other authors. hearing your thoughts is what makes our "Career" as fanfic writers  
> AND MOST IMPORTANTLY...  
> HAVE A GREAT DAY/NIGHT~!


	19. Welcome to Overwatch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reader meets the Overwatch team...and Soldier 76.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well well well... long time no see.   
> less than a wait time after the whole dirty chapter and the next, but still a while. after a long ass absence, im thoroughly into overwatch again and even more...with this story.   
> im again super attached to the reader character, even making the reader into my OC. but that's besides the point - im into this shit again.  
> AND I HAVE EVEN MORE EXCITING NEWS!!!  
> i am one of the authors that will be featured in an Overwatch zine : Stories from Watchpoint Gibraltar.   
> The zine is not yet out now, but we're in the final stretch. we just finished beta-ing everything, and that includes my story.   
> go the end notes for a little summary of what my submission will be... and it's about the reader character from this story !!!  
> \---  
> TRIGGER WARNINGS:  
> reference to drug abuse  
> trauma talks  
> drowning  
> \---  
> ENJOY~!!!

You couldn’t breathe.

It was difficult to  _ not  _ realize that when you sucked a breath in. Instead of there being air in your mouth, however, there was water...cold, bitter water filling up your lungs. You sputtered, eyes widening as you took in sight of where you were.

You were in water, that much was obvious. But a quick look around revealed that you were in a tank, of some sort. You were in a tank that had a five foot space between two panels of glass. Everything else was dark, however, and you swam towards the other side. 

You squinted, frowning as you pressed your hand against the glass. But as soon as you skin came in contact, it splintered. You gasped, little air bubbles floating up towards the top of the tank. Even though the glass splintered, it did not break. And you were running out of air.

You furrowed your brow and thinned your lips, swimming backwards. If you stretched, you could brace yourself on the other side of the tank and kick at the splintered glass. If you kicked hard enough, it could break.

And then you could be free.

So you did just that… You pressed your hands behind you head and onto the glass, bracing yourself. It was hard to lift your legs up due to the intense pressure from the water, but you had no choice. So you pulled your legs up to your chest, and you brought them down.

The glass did not break, but its damage did spread. Little cracks appeared, and you brought your legs back up.

You kicked again, and again, and again, and-

It broke.

You rushed forward with such a speed as the glass broke, the water spilling out. You tumbled out of the tank and onto the water, sputtering and gasping for air. You thankfully did not land among the glass, so you pressed your palms flat against the ground and pushed yourself up.

There was still darkness, but you could breathe now. You were no longer in the tank, no longer drowning. 

You were free.

You giggled, throwing your head back as you happily breathed in oxygen. 

Then you were shot.

The bullet hit your stomach, and your eyes opened faster than they had closed. You gasped, knees jerking up and hands flying to your stomach. Your eyes trailed down to your torso, and yes.

You were bleeding.

Before you could even process what the fuck was happening, a boot was on your stomach. Worse than that, it was over the bullet wound. It pressed down, and you screamed, throwing you head back against the wet ground. The scream was primal, a ragged thing against your throat.

For a moment, you thought you tasted blood. 

“You were something,” a familiar voice said...a voice that sent a cold, electric shock throughout your body. Your eyes opened, and you screams stopped.

You looked up.

Blue eyes peered back.

“You will be nothing.”

A gun raised, and it fired.

 

You woke up with a cry, breathing heavily and sweaty dripping down your face and back. You expected to see the grey of your room at Talon, or the white of the med wing, but instead you found dark, yellow walls. For a moment, you wondered if you were abducted again, taken hostage by another group.

But a quick look around revealed the balcony, and a desk next to it. On the desk lay a photo album, and you remembered.

This was your new room… You were with Overwatch.

You were free.

The panic that had enveloped you drifted away into the sweat on your skin, and you pushed back your sweaty hair with a long sigh. You closed your eyes, focusing on your breathing for a few moments.

It was just a nightmare...a very vivid, intense nightmare. 

But it wasn’t real, despite how real it felt. You hadn’t been shot, and Jack Morrison was not here. 

He was not here. 

You dropped your head into your hands, letting out a loud sigh. How long would these nightmares last? How many nights would you watch with tired eyes, mapping your own constellations that told stories of bravery, revenge and death? 

How long would this pain last?

You had no idea and you looked up with a huff, observing your dark, empty room. Lena had mentioned they would take you shopping this weekend, and the thought scared you. You were used to empty rooms...rooms that held no connection to you. You were used to grey walls, clean floors and normal blankets. You were used to knowing few people, not knowing your way around where you lived.

The moment you felt connected to a new room, to a new place and people, you feared you would forget your past. You feared you would no longer remember Justice sleeping in your bed, head on your thighs as you read. You feared you would forget the wrinkles on your mother and fathers faces, how their eyes crinkled with laughter and they always blinked during photos.

You feared you would forget. 

You could be put through hell and back, but as long as you remembered, it was okay. You would be okay.

Right?

You didn’t have the energy to dwell anymore, and got up from your bed. There were no blankets to pull away - you made sure to not sleep with them anymore. With your feet now on the floor, you looked out towards the balcony from your bed. It was still late, sky still dark and stars bright. That meant time to kill.

You could explore the base...go into the bits and corners Lena hadn’t shown. Those were the best places to be, after all. It was unlikely people would bother you when you were hidden. 

So with a deep breath, you stood up, planning on patting your face down before leaving. A loud knock on your door made you jump and pause, however. Your eyes widened, throat tightening as you expected people to kick in your door and drag you out, screaming and crying. They would take you to a white room, take you to a bucket full of water and make you  _ drown.  _ Overwatch was just like Talon right?

But it never happened.

The door never opened, the people never rushed in, and you were never dragged down the hallway. Nothing happened besides a sudden onslaught of deafening silence Your heart rate returned to something somewhat normal, and you slowly walked to the door.

There was a small peephole, so you peeked through it to see if someone was there.

There wasn’t. The hallway was empty.

Confused, you pulled open your door. You nearly tripped over the mug on the ground,but thankfully caught yourself just in time. But you caught the bright blue cup, steaming. That wasn’t normal, unless Overwatch had some weird welcoming ritual. 

Again, you looked down the hallway, trying to see if someone was there. You expected someone to pop out with a camera and tell you you’d been pranked, that it was going on Jimmy Kimmel or whoever the hell they had now. But again, no one surfaced.

Shrugging, you picked up the mug and turned, closing the door behind you. A loud thud confirmed its closure and you sat on your bed, holding the hot cup in your hands. A sniff revealed it to not be coffee, and something sweet.

If it was poison, at least you’d die right?

You took a sip.

It was hot at first, but not scalding. The person who made it went the extra mile to make sure it wouldn’t burn. And with a surprise, you realized it was hot chocolate. 

Your favorite.

You’d forgotten what it tasted like - a small loss compared to everything else. But the taste and warmth made your stomach flutter, and you melted into its taste. You hummed to yourself, almost feeling as though you hadn’t been through hell and back...even if just for a moment.

You were right.

You would be okay. 

The hallways of Overwatch were dark and empty, a dull glow settling over you as the moon shining bright from the windows. It felt odd for the HQ to be so open, with wide hallways and tall ceilings. The Talon HQ had felt cramped, and constricting.

It hard to believe that where you were now felt... _ free.  _

You were... _ free.  _

The thought left you breathless, fingers trailing along the white wallpaper as you wandered the hallways. Back before...everything happened, you oftentimes wandered your neighborhood when sleep evaded your grasp. It was decent enough, and with Justice, people left you alone. 

You’d always enjoyed the cool air in your chest, the serenity of the night… And walking through Overwatch made your chest swell up just as it had all that time ago. A smile crept onto your face at the feeling. 

Lena had shown you the basics and core areas of the base, but there was more to it. You knew that, and kept it in mind as you walked around. The current hallway you were exploring seemed to go on for a while, and you were pleased to see it opened into a large area.

You were even happier to see couches littered about, with chairs thrown in here and there. You didn’t see a TV, but did see a number of gaming consoles scattered around. The sight made your heart flutter, and the small smile on your face to grow to a grin. 

You quietly approached the room, understanding it must’ve been a game or common room. You didn’t expect the members of Overwatch to play video games, and have such an extensive set up. But it made you happy they did.

You collapsed into one of the couches, sinking into it comfortably. A soft sigh came from your lips as you felt more normal than you had in awhile. Sitting in a comfy couch and merely existing felt as though it were the most average thing you had done in weeks... _ years… _

It was only when a TV formed out of thin air did you remember you were not normal, that you were in the future. It appeared solid, and smaller monitors appeared next to it. Seeing it now, you realized the gaming consoles were underneath it and must be wirelessly connected to the TV. 

A start menu appeared on the screen, and you quickly looked around for a remote only to see none. You pursed your lips, and looked up to the screen, confused.

“It’s vocally controlled,” a voice said from behind you, and you jumped up, stumbling over the coffee table in surprise. You spun around, prepared to run or apologize when you saw a girl... a very  _ young  _ girl.

She looked of Korean descent, with long brown hair and pink marks on her cheeks. She was clad in a t shirt representing some...league or brand you didn’t recognize. And on her head was a headset. 

She looked surprise by you too, but she didn’t appear upset or annoyed. Instead, she looked happy and intrigued by your sudden appearance. “You’re the new recruit, aren’t ya?” she asked, a grin on her face. 

You nodded as you bit your lip, feeling awkward and out of place. “Yeah I’m (Y/N),” you said and the grin grew.

The girl threw a peace sign with a wink, something that looked flawless. She must’ve done it a lot. “I’m Hana Song, codename D.va!” she exclaimed before pointing her fingers into a gun, pretending to shoot it. The motion made your lips curl up and eyebrows shoot up. She was definitely young. “Pleased to meet you!” she cheered before jumping over the couch and landing on its cushions. 

You stood there, unsure of what to do as she got comfortable, holding her hand up in anticipation. Awestruck, you watched a controller appear in her hand. “PlayX...on!” she commanded, and the TV switched to show a boot up animation for a console. Hana giggled at your expression. “A lot to take in, huh?” she asked, and you nodded, swallowing harshly. So much had changed… It was crazy to even imagine a phone without a headphone jack back in your time. Now, everything appeared out of mid air.

No wonder why the AI grew self aware and fought back. Everyone predicted it. 

Hana must’ve been watching your expression as you witnessed the console boot up, blue and green colors mixing to create a soft yellow hue for the menu. A giggle came from her, and you looked over, seeing her pat the couch spot next to her. “Wanna play?” she asked, and you bit your lip, holding yourself.

“I...don’t really think I’ll be good,” you said, and she rolled her eyes, huffing. 

“Oh whatever! I bet you’re gonna be awesome,” she insisted, holding up another hand that suddenly held a controller. Hana did not look judgemental, nor did she look annoyed. She looked...genuine with her intentions. 

After a conflicted moment, your lips curled up and you nodded, taking a seat next to the girl. She looked happy you decided to join, and reached behind the couch to pull out a blanket. She lay it across the both of you, and for once, you didn’t flinch at the feeling of the cloth. Beside Hana, you felt safe...secure even.

It made your chest warm. 

“I was gonna play a shooter called “Titan”! You wanna play?” she asked, and you nodded before furrowing your brow.

You gestured to the single TV. “There’s only one TV though…” you trailed off, noticing Hana’s smirk. There was a soft buzz from the single TV, and you looked back to see another TV forming. No longer completely shocked, a breathless laugh came from you at the sight, at the technology. “That’s amazing,” you said, and Hana nodded.

The other TV flickered to life, booting up just as the other had. The controller felt comfortable in your hands, familiar even. It brought back memories of playing video games in your apartments, when you were young and growing. It made an odd sensation of calm settle over your chest.

Video games may have changed, but the sensation it gave you had not. It was reassuring you could still find a spot in this new world, a reminder that not everything changed. 

“Now...get ready to lose!” Hana yelled, and you grinned, cracking your back.

“Not tonight!”

 

Cold water bit at your skin, taking off bits and pieces of your flesh. Your fingers were bleeding from grabbing at the bucket you were held at, trying to pull yourself up. But something was tangled in your head, holding down.

You wanted to scream, but you knew you couldn’t waste the air in your lungs, even as it was slipping away in bubbles. The water was salt, stinging as you struggled and as your lungs burned. 

You needed to get up, to push whoever held you down off of you. The only way you could do so was with your powers, so you attempted to relax. The hum of your powers danced at the edge of your vision, tickling your tongue as you reached for it. Yet it escaped you every time, advancing further and further into darkness.

And your vision was following its lead. 

You could feel the air disappearing from your lungs, and you tried to get up, to push the weight off of you. But it would not budge. No… It got stronger, instead, pushing you down deeper into the cold sting of water. 

“(Y/N)!” 

Your fingernails dug into wood, splinters cutting into your skin. 

“(Y/N)!” 

You opened your eyes in the water.

Blue eyes stared back.

 

Something struck you...hard. Your eyes opened to bright light, a loud gasp of air being sucked into your lungs. A loud ringing echoed in your ears as you squinted, eyes adjusting to what lie about you.

You saw a girl’s face, framed by brown bangs and defined by pink marks. It only took you a moment to realize that the woman above you was Hana, but you didn’t recognize the other face.

Hell, you only realized it was a face because a tuft of white hair lay on the top of a head. Below the brief patch of skin and white hair was a weird looking blue mask, with a...visor? Harsh fear rushed through your veins as you realized the mask belonged to none other than…

You gasped, sitting up in a rush. You expected to be back in med bay, tucked under scratchy blankets with a steady beep of machinery. But no...you were in the living room you’d played in with Hana the night before.

Only...why was the man here now?

What did he want?

Prepared to jump up and demand an explanation for him stalking you, you opened your mouth only to be hit with a sudden wave of nausea and vertigo. You visibly wavered, pressing a hand to your head. You heard Hana move towards you, and felt soft fingertips graze over your skin. But you squeezed your eyes shut, trying to push off the nausea and weight on your head.

“You got up too fast,” Hana softly said, and you nodded, feeling the sensation pass. You let out a deep breath, opening your eyes now.

Hana sat in front of you, hair sticking up wildly in numerous directions. She still wore her PJs, and she appeared to have woken up just before you. There was no sleep in her eyes, however, only worry.

“Hey,” you said lamely, unsure of what to say. A sharp sting on your cheek made you wince again however, pressing a metal hand to it. The cool metal felt better on the inflamed flesh. 

Hana smiled, and you suddenly realized why she was a streamer. She was so likeable, which you’d learned over the night of gaming. “Hey, how you feeling?” she asked, and you shrugged.

“My cheek hurts,” you said before frowning, swallowing. “And my throat…”

You drifted off, watching Hana look away with thin lips. Your scowl deepened as your eyes narrowed, trying to understand why she looked so...sheepish? Concerned? She had the same look Angela always did when checking up on you in the med ward...the same look Gabe had whenever he saw you in general… “What?” you said.

“You...had a nightmare,” Hana said quietly, and you simply frowned at her for a moment before swallowing again, feeling the rawness of your throat. Heat rushed to your face and you grabbed at your throat, understanding. Hana noticed and placed a hand on your knee. “We couldn’t wake you up… You sounded so scared, so Soldier...slapped you,” she said, and you looked away, ashamed.

You’d woken her up...probably woken  _ everybody  _ up… 

Hana noticed the shame you had, and sighed. “(Y/N)...you came from such a shitty place… We’re just happy you’re doing better, and I had so much fun last night! All of my viewers loved you! No one will be mad...we were just worried for you,” Hana insisted, seemingly genuine. You nodded, trying to ignore the way your stomach twisted with a certain fuzziness. “Even Soldier was worried.”

Your hair stood up, goosebumps prickling to life on your skin. Soldier...the man who had been watching you for the past week. Your fingers tightened around your pants, and your lips thinned into a line. 

“Soldier…” you murmured, almost to yourself. Hana noticed your odd expression, but didn’t say anything. Instead, another smile brightened her face and she pushed the blankets off of her body. 

“C’mon! Reinhardt made us egg and bacon!” Hana said, jerking you from your thoughts. You nodded, sitting up.

You pushed no blankets aside.

 

The idea of an actual breakfast was a foreign one at this point… You were used to barely shoveling anything down your throat in Talon. The drugs they injected into you on a daily basis oftentimes curbed any appetite you may have possessed - but after watching many people killed in front of you and killing yourself, you weren’t too hungry. Gabe had always pushed you to eat…

But you were alone now.

Walking into the kitchen, you could feel the attention on you. A very large man was bent over the oven, a fluff of white hair sticking up on his head. You quickly recognized him as Reinhardt, or “Reiny” as Lena called him. He was humming to himself quite loudly, and you faintly smiled at the sound. Reinhardt was rather huge, and clearly a beast, but you didn’t get bad vibes from him.

The distant hum he gave off was not threatening… No, it hummed a similar song that many people here had. It sang of nightmares, fear, and trauma. 

Reinhardt wasn’t the only one in the massive kitchen. A few other people were gathered around, clearly waiting for the food. Hana giggled beside you, and you looked over to her. “Rein’s bacon and eggs are famous around here,” she said, and you licked your lips, looking back to the large plate he had prepared for the eggs. “Many people insist on him opening a restaurant,” she teased. 

“Ah...but you would miss me, would you not?” he asked, voice loud and thunderous. Any sleep that lingered disappeared at his loud voice. 

“What would we do without you and your big shield?” a thick Swedish voice said, and you looked over and …  _ down?  _ Drinking a bright red drink was the man you recognized as Torbjorn, although now he was awake. He still did look like a mess, however. 

Reinhardt laughed loudly, a noise that shook your bones. He tossed a look over his shoulder. “You would have to find a different spot for you turret!” he cried, and everyone laughed...except you and Torbjorn, who rolled his eyes and went to drinking his drink. There was red in his cheeks, and you knew he wasn’t actually annoyed. 

“And I don’t think you would like to run into battle, now would you little man?” a Russian voice added, and how could you not notice the absolutely ripped, pink haired woman leaning against the island cabinets. She was probably the most muscular woman you’d ever seen...hell, she was as muscular as Reinhardt, who was the most muscular man you’d ever seen. You briefly wondered if they frequently had muscle-offs...if that was a thing. The thought made you smile. 

Torbjorn waved a hand dismissively, telling them off. Looking around, they appeared to be the only ones down here and possibly awake. You spotted a clock, which informed you it was around eight in the morning. Hana noticed your gaze and yawned. “Yeah...I’m usually not up this early,” she said, and you frowned, understanding she would be asleep if not for you. She noticed your expression and sighed, poking your cheek. You reeled back, shooting her a confused look that made her giggle. “Don’t be sad! We all have nightmares!” she said, looking to Reinhardt. “ _ Riiiight?”  _

Torbjorn grumbled into his drink. “Some worse than others,” he said, and Zarya hummed into her drink, which appeared to be a protein smoothie or something. Reinhardt nodded to himself as he cooked. 

“You are not alone here,” he said, and you clenched your jaw, looking down at your feet. Your arms tightened around your body, trying to keep you...warm? Safe? You didn’t know… You never really did know what to do with your hands. You’d only just gotten used to them being your conduit to powers, and now they were metal for fucks sake .

The clattering of the large serving dish Reinhardt had caught everyone’s attention, jerking them away from their thoughts. Any tension that had risen was quickly lost to Reinhardt turning with two large plates, both possessing a startling amount of bacon and eggs. Everyone simultaneously darted to the dining table, even Torbjorn managing to move rather fast. You watched them as they yanked chairs out to sit on, eagerly plopping down on them.

Torbjorn even had a special chair. 

It took a moment for you to realize you could sit too, slowly approaching the table. Reinhardt placed the two plates down, before revealing more plates under them. He slid them all to everyone before loudly stating, “Athena, silverware please!” 

Silverware magically appeared next to all plates, and the sight made you stop, eyes widening in shock. Holy...holy shit? Of course the first amazing use of AI technology you saw would be for one of the silliest reasons. No one else reacted oddly to it however, instead focusing on getting the food.

For a moment, you just watched them grab their food and eat. Hana was the most vicious, jokingly going to stab at some hands as they reached for her eggs or bacon. Zarya merely sat up,and the others allowed her to grab her portion with little intervention. Torbjorn grumbled as he got last pick, and by the time Reinhardt had sitten down, there was little food left.

You watched them all eat, joking around with one another with an odd heaviness in your chest. They joked around and talked as though they were family, and you guessed they were. They’d fought together, bled together, and cried together…

You had done it all alone.

You bit your lip, turning to leave with crossed arms. You weren’t welcome here… You were silly to think otherwise. With a heavy chest, you exited the kitchen.

“Y/N!” Hana cried, and you stopped, looking back. Hana was standing, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “Where you going?” she asked, and you tossed a small smile.

“I was going to shower,” you lamely excused, and she rolled her eyes. 

“Get back over here!” she demanded, and you clenched your jaw. She saw the hesitation in your eyes, and the confusion subsided before melting into an understanding smile. “When was the last time you had decent food?” she asked, and the Russian huffed loudly.

“This is good food! Good for building muscles!” she tossed a look back at you before pursing her lips. “Which you need,  _ Светляк _ !” 

Despite that soft punch tossed at you, you smiled and approached the table. Reinhardt cheered, lifting his glass towards you. Hana let out a victorious cry too and you rolled your eyes at her. 

“I’m not sure what I’m even supposed to do with all this food,” you joked, and Hana popped some bacon into her mouth.

“I suggest eating it,” she joked. “It helps with building muscle, so Zarya won’t benchpress you.” Hana giggled, and you chuckled under your breath. 

Reinhardt pushed a plate towards where you sat, which was next to Zarya. Without a command, silverware appeared. The use of the AI made you pause, head buzzing with sudden electricity. Your fingers twitched at all the energy being manipulated, and for the first time since you lost your hands, a loud hum echoed in your ears. Softly gasping, you felt your veins begin to glow ever so faintly.

Your powers! They were coming back!

The others noticed, but attributed the reaction to the sudden appearance of silverware. “That’s Athena,” Torbjorn explained, and you looked up to him. He was slowly eating his food, no doubt boggled down by his hangover. “Hopefully she doesn’t go batshit like other AI,” he grumbled. 

Hana rolled her eyes, sighing loudly. “Not all AI are bad, Torb,” she said, and you furrowed your brows at her comment. 

“AI are advanced...right?” you asked, forgetting about the food. Zarya hummed next to you however, grabbing the serving plate and loading up a startling amount of food. Your eyes bugged out, and you looked over, wanting to refuse but she didn’t let you.

“Eat half. Build muscle,” she commanded, and you shrinked back, nodding. You pursed your lips at the sight, grabbing one of the forks. It was...real? Touching it made a familiar yet new sensation spark your fingers. You never really did consider that having metal hands now meant you’d feel the hum differently. 

“They’re more than advanced,” Hana said casually in between bites. 

You narrowed your eyes, trying to understand. You felt like a child at the moment. “Like… “robots” advanced?” you asked.

“Omnics,” Zarya hissed, and Torbjorn hummed, nodding with a dark look on his face. You didn’t understand, and looked to Zarya. Her lips were thin, pink eyebrows pulled together. The air suddenly shifted into something much more tense, one charged with energy. Before, it would be concerning to feel the hums of people. But now with the anger and fear, doubled with the A.I named Athena, it felt comforting. The hum still danced at the edge of where you could reach, but it felt closer.

You hoped you could regain absolute control of your powers. You needed them.

You wanted them.

“Omnics?” you asked, frowning as you looked over to Hana. She was paused in her eating, wide eyes looking over to Reinhardt and Torbjorn expectantly.

Torbjorn growled under his breath. “Damned creatures,” he hissed, and you pursed your lips as you looked over to Hana. She rolled her eyes, meeting your gaze.

“They’re basically robots,” she said, and you nodded. “They’re extremely developed A.I, and some believe they have souls,” she explained.  “They were created for economic use a while after your...disappearance. They were shut down, but went rogue and began war.” Your shock and surprise was evident, because Hana sighed. “They’re not bad… They’re peaceful now.”

“They could go rogue once more,” Zarya insisted, and Torbjorn grumbled, agreeing. You scowled, looking over to Reinhardt. His face was dark, eyes narrowed in deep thought. You wished you could reach into his core and understand...but for now, you could only see and think. 

“Are you...okay?” you asked him, and he looked up. For a moment, you saw a familiar shadow hanging in his eyes. You bit your lip, trying to convey that you knew, you understood, you  _ felt  _ what he did… 

“I lost much to the war,” he said, voice low and rumbling. You cocked your head. “Friends...Crusaders…” A sigh. “Balderich…”

You nodded, looking over to Hana. There was a shadow on her face as well, yet not one born of hate and violence. She merely appeared to remember, as many others did.  “You said they...have souls?” you asked, voice feeling so small in the face of sadness and grief. 

Hana nodded, shrugging. “The Shambali believe Omnics have souls,” she said, and you raised an eyebrow. She smiled, rolling her eyes at herself when she remembered you had no idea who the Shambali were. “They’re basically monks,” she explained. “Many of them are Omnics, although some humans agree with them.”

You nodded. “Ahhh…” you trailed off, poking your food. Any hunger you felt had dissipated with the tension. Omnics… “Back in my time,” you began, making the others look up at you. “We were always warned of A.I rising up. We even had whole movies dedicated to the topic,” you said.

Hana threw a hand up, pointing at you. “Like the Terminator!” she said, and you nodded with a soft smile. 

“Yes, like the Terminator.” Hana sank back in her seat with a pleased grin. “Stephen Hawking said they’d help take over the world,” you said, thinking back to the genius. It was odd to suddenly realize he was probably dead… Who were the current geniuses? What advances had been made in science and astronomy? The thoughts made you pause for a moment. “But...we’re still alive,” you pointed out. “That has to count for something...right?”

There was silence at the table before the soft pad of footsteps approached the kitchen. You didn’t look up from your meal, thinking on the information you’d just learned. You only looked up when you heard a Russian swear, and Hana’s loud laughter. Frowning, your gaze was turned to the kitchen to see…

“McCree!” Hana squealed. A...cowboy was standing in the kitchen, face red and...only wearing boxers? Your eyes widened at the sight. 

“Shit,” he said, and Torbjorn groaned, head collapsing on the table from disgust. “Uh...hey there!” Reinhardt let out a loud laugh, raising a hand.

“Hello there! Have a good night?” he asked, and McCree winked, cueing Zarya to stand, eyes closed in horror. Torbjorn said something in Swedish, while Hana and Reinhardt laughed. 

“You bethcha,” he replied, a smirk on his face. Hana jokingly gagged, making the cowboy grin. Zarya picked up her plate, bringing it over to the kitchen. While there, she grabbed a kitchen towel and threw it at his face.

“Cover yourself, horse man. We have guests,” she sighed. McCree raised his eyebrows before looking back to the table. His eyes widened when he saw you, and for a moment, the two of you simply looked at each other. The stare was broken when he reached up, taking off his hat and tipping it towards you. Were you back in the 1900s? 

“Howdy, darlin,” he said, and you reached up, offering a small wave. His eyes went towards your hands, which were obscenely metal compared to the flesh of your arms. But he didn’t look disgusted, instead he looked interested. “Are you the new gal we’ve heard so much about?” he asked. 

“This is (Y/N),” Hana said, and you nodded, feeling awkward. You never had been great with introductions, especially with a half naked cowboy. 

“Hey,” you lamely said, and McCree grinned, putting his hat back on. Zarya groaned with disgust, turning and placing her hands on her hips.

“Show some dignity,” she said, shooing him. “Go back to dragon man,” she hissed, and McCree rolled his eyes, turning. He went to leave, but not before grabbing an apple from the fruit basket. As he plopped it in his mouth, he winked at you. You rolled your eyes, turning back to your food. Hana was giggling.

“That was McCree,” she said, and you nodded, looking back to where he’d disappeared. He seemed...friendly? You weren’t sure. The idea of friends was odd after Talon. 

“Is he...a cowboy?” you asked, noticing Reinhardt grabbing Torbjorn’s plate. It seemed the Swedish man had fallen asleep. 

Hana shoveled the last bit of food in her mouth as she nodded, making an affirmative noise. She chewed for a moment before standing, gathering her plate and silverware. You stood too, unsure of what to do. “Yeah, he kinda has an obsession with that stuff,” she explained before watching you pick up your plate. Her lips thinned as she threw a concerned look at you. “Did you even eat?” she asked, and you looked at your plate. It was untouched.

“I’m not hungry,” you said, and Hana frowned, simply watching you for a moment. You hoped she didn’t push it. Your body was used to being drugged up while you ate, so your soberness confused it. Thankfully, Hana sighed and took your plate, turning to the kitchen. 

“Ok! If you get hungry, there’s always food down here,” she said, throwing a look over her shoulder. Hana handed the plates to Zarya, who was cleaning them. Reinhardt was putting plates in the dishwasher, which surprised you. 

“I will be making my famous Schnitzel tonight!” Reinhardt loudly exclaimed, and you nodded. Right...there was a dinner you had to attend that evening. The thought of meeting everyone was nerve wracking, and your fingers tapped your thigh in response. 

“(Y/N)?” Hana suddenly said, voice small and worried. You looked up from the spot you’d lost yourself in on the ground to see her watching you with concern. Zarya had stopped washing plates, following Hana’s gaze as well. 

“Yeah!” you loudly said, nodding quickly. “I’ll be there,” you awkwardly replied, and Hana nodded, smiling brightly.

“Awesome! It’s gonna be lit,” she said, clearly offering a throwback to slang around your time. You chuckled at that, turning around to leave. 

You didn’t see the man in blue enter the kitchen after you left. And you didn’t see him watch you leave, blue eyes speculative and troubled. 

 

The concept of having your own room and having the freedom to do what you pleased was...an odd one, to say in the least. Your “room” in Talon wasn’t much of a room, either… Here you had an actual bed, a desk, and your own bathroom. You weren’t used to either peeing by yourself or in a toilet. Memories of your cell still made you shudder.

Standing in your doorway, all you found yourself capable of doing was staring at the somewhat barren space. You frowned, entering the room. It felt empty, but it did not feel cold and threatening as your room in Talon had. The silly idea of decorating it crossed your mind, but you pushed it aside. Who knew how long you would be here anyways? Once you found and killed Jack Morrison, you would move on.

...right?

Maybe you were scared of getting attached to people, to a place once again. The last time you’d felt attached to people had resulted in their murders, gunned down in cold blood. The last time you loved… 

Everything was gone. 

You shook your head with a deep breath, trying to push away those thoughts. Right now...it was your time. You looked around for a clock, wanting to know what time it was. Hana had said dinner was at 5, so you had some time to yourself. It was another foreign idea to have the freedom to spend time however you wanted. You didn’t really know where to start, but with a quick sniff, you realized you needed to shower.

_ Your lungs began to burn as carbon dioxide flooded your systems, replacing any oxygen left. His fingers knotted with absolute menace around your strands of hair, but the pain didn’t even compare to the burning in your throat.  _

_ You were going to die.  _

You shuddered, trying to shove the memory of being drowned out of your mind. It was easier to say than actually do, and as you approached your bathroom, you stopped in its doorway. 

The bathroom was...rather large. A large, ceramic bathtub was shoved into the corner with a showerhead above it. A toilet was in the other corner, separated by some cabinets featuring a sink. There was also some storage, and opening it revealed toilet paper, towels and even some basic toiletries. You saw toothpaste and a toothbrush, and sighed in relief. It’d been too long since you’d brushed your teeth.

But for now...you needed to bathe. You felt grimey and gross. The idea of putting your head under water made you shudder, however, and so with a deep breath, you turned the nozzel. Water flowed out of the bathtub’s faucet, and you watched it begin to fill. In some silly way, the fact that bathtubs hadn’t changed reassured you, calmed you. 

But the idea of submerging yourself into water did. It was no secret that the attempted drowning conducted by Talon haunted you. Running a hand under the water, you felt it was warm. The temperature made you feel a bit calmer. 

The coldness of the bucket’s water had bit at your skin when you’d been held under water. It had clawed at your throat, and it had rendered you useless.

But this water would not. 

While you waited for the water to fill, you turned and looked at yourself in the mirror. Now in private with little fear of worrying Angela, you allowed yourself to see yourself. Your hair was choppy and poorly cut, reflecting your desperation when you’d taken scissors to the strands. It felt like months ago you’d been in the community bathroom, you’d first kissed Gabe…

Looking at yourself, you realized this is what he saw...what everyone saw. Your eyes traced over your body, and you pursed your lips. In the baggy clothes you wore, there was little to actually see. You looked like some hermit.

You couldn’t really bathe clothed, so you shakily pulled off your top, and the sight shook you. It had technically been years since you’d last seen your body, but to you it’d only been weeks. You’d gone from a sheltered girl to one who’d survived what many would not. You’d been tortured, drugged and had even died. 

Your body reflected that.

The curves you’d possessed were gone. Any comfortable weight you’d had been pulled away, hugging your ribcage. The warmth in your skin was now cold, dark bags under your eyes. You shuddered at the sight, running your fingers along your sunken collarbones, breasts and stomach. Your metallic fingers reminded you of just one more thing you’d lost… 

You closed your eyes for a moment, biting your lips. How much weight had you lost? Was it from the torture, the lack of food...  _ the drugs?  _ You suspected it was from...everything, really. 

You had never really been comfortable with your body. That much was obvious. For a while, you’d merely been concerned with surviving in Talon and then adjusting here. After the first few days in Talon’s possession, you’d forgotten to criticize your body. 

The world was too busy breaking you only to rebuild what pieces remained. 

You sucked on your lips, fingers ghosting over the hem of your pants. You remembered Gabe’s fingers stopped here, intuitive and curious. You’d seen so much horror that you had turned your eyes away, but now...now you couldn’t.

It was time to face what the world had turned you into. 

You slowly stepped out of your pants, leaving you in your underwear. You kept your eyes on the white tile under your feet for a moment, taking deep breaths. You wiggled your toes for a moment, seeing how long your toenails had grown. You needed to shave too, you thought, but in all honesty...it didn’t matter.

You opened your eyes. 

_ You’re gorgeous. _

You looked at your hipbones, defined and sharp.

_ I want to cherish every part of you. _

Your thighs were smaller.

_ You can stop armies with that mouth. _

You looked so...fragile. You looked so small, and you wondered if you would break. But you hadn’t broken yet… You were still here, still alive. You frowned.

_ And I see a woman. _

You pulled off your underwear, turned off the water flow in the bath, and sank in deep. 

_ “I love you.”  _

You did not drown. And you did not break. 

 

After your bath, you had little idea of what to do. Freedom was an odd feeling after spending numerous days bound to both a cell and then a rigorous schedule. A startling revelation, however, was one that you could sleep… No longer did you have to do what others wanted! You could do what  _ you   _ wanted. 

So, you curled up on your bed and fell asleep.

And for once - you  _ slept.  _

_ “Good afternoon, (Last Name).” _

You stirred, turning over with a soft groan. The soft pull of consciousness tugged at you from the warm embrace of sleep, something you hadn’t experienced in weeks. For a moment, it felt like you were back in your apartment, with Justice fast asleep by your side. The thought made your chest flutter, but it disappeared when you blinked away the sleep in your eyes. 

You were in your room...with Overwatch. Right...you were in 2076 and not 2016, untouched by torture and a virgin of true pain. You rolled over onto your side, yawning and stretching. Right...Overwatch… You’d woken up in the morning with Hana before going back to sleep.

“Mmm,” you groaned, eyes fluttering. “What...time is it?” you wondered, lifting your head to look at the nightstand beside your bed. There was no clock. You frowned now. 

_ “The time is 4:30 in the evening, (Last name).” _

You jerked, eyes widening. Sucking a deep breath in, you sat up immediately. You curled in on yourself, trying to pull on the faint hum of your powers only to find nothing. Who was in your room? Was it Widowmaker, back to return you to her possession?

You curled your lips, prepared to fight only to see…

Nothing?

No one was in your room. It looked exactly as it did before you fell asleep - blankets thrown on the ground, bathroom door ajar… Then where was the voice?

Were you hallucinating? You groaned at the idea of  _ another  _ problem, getting to your feet to look around. You approached the balcony door, peering out to only see a calm ocean and lowering sun. You bit your lip. What the hell?

“H-hello?” you asked, voice small and quiet. You felt silly saying the same thing girl in horror movies did right before they were killed. You were just waiting for Jason Voorhees to pop up when-

_ “Hello! I am Athena, an A.I developed to assist Winston. My other functions are to help out around the base with training, food, and other actions.” _

You spun around, eyes wide and mouth open before pausing. The fuzzy memories from the morning came back, reminding you that Hana had introduced you to their A.I system. You had no idea that the A.I was even in rooms, nonetheless the A.I had a name. Jesus you felt old. 

“Uh...hi?” Could you talk to an A.I like you would a human? You had no idea. You’d gone from having a somewhat functional SIRI to an A.I who could materialize plates. This was not your territory.

_ “Pleased to meet you (Last Name)! Can I help you with anything at the moment?” _

You pursed your lips, reaching up to scratch your forehead. If you weren’t completely baffled, you’d probably mess around with the A.I. You remembered having fun with SIRI when she came out, making it sing dumb songs and cussing it out. The memory made you soften a little before shaking your head.

“No,” you said, unsure of how to respond. Could the A.I understand...anything? You made a mental note to ask Winston or...anyone really. The thought made you remember dinner was in thirty minutes. “Shit.”

You quickly walked over to your closet, opening it to reveal a small selection of clothing. Lena had promised to take you out shopping that weekend, but the idea of going to a mall made your skin crawl. You would do with what you had. You always did. 

A black sweater caught your attention, and pulling it out revealed an Overwatch logo pasted onto the the chest. You scowled at the sight, returning it to the hanger. You weren’t ready to accept your...position in Overwatch. Putting on the sweater acknowledged you were comfortable with being here, that the people you fought alongside were...family. 

Your family died years ago.

Thankfully, there was another sweater that featured a turtleneck. You pulled it on, noting there was a cute bunny printed above your heart. You smiled at the sight, rubbing your metallic finger over it.

_ “That’s Hana’s logo.”  _

You jumped, surprised by the sudden input. A soft swear escaped you as you turned, going to look up at the ceiling. You didn’t know where else to look other than where you thought the voice came from. Were you even supposed to  _ look  _ at A.Is? 

“Her...logo?” you asked, feeling dumb. 

_ “Yes. Hana is a popular gamer known around the world. The bunny is her logo.” _

You nodded before remembering the night before. You’d seen Hana wearing some league’s shirt, figuring it to be a favorite team. She’d also been streaming, but she hadn’t talked much about how many people were watching. But… “She’s...famous?” you asked, and Athena made a soft whirring noise of confirmation.

_ “Yes. As of right now she has…”  _ There were more whirrs.  _ “758 million followers on Circuit, and 900 million on Twitch.” _

Your eyes widened. “Holy shit…” You thought for a moment. Hana was extremely likable. She’d been incredibly friendly to you, treating you as though you were just...a normal person. You weren’t “America’s Missing Girl” to her, or another victim of Talon and war. You were just...you. “Twitch is still a thing?” you whispered to yourself.

_ “Yes. It is the most popular streaming-” _

“That was a rhetorical question,” you said, replying just as you would if you were talking to SIRI. Unlike SIRI, however, Athena fell silent. Huh...so they did constantly listen and respond. 

Mildly creeped out by the advance of technology, you turned back to your closet and pulled out some leggings. Again, there was a pair with the Overwatch logo and another untouched. You pulled on the regular leggings before dressing your feet with pink socks. 

The idea of wearing your own outfit made you smile. You hadn’t worn what  _ you  _ wanted since… 

The mall.

The smile you’d worn drifted away at the memory, and you simply stood in front of your closet for a moment. How long would the memory haunt you? How long would you constantly compare the present to the past? How long would you be bogged down by the grief and sadness the attack inflicted?

How long would you be...this way?

_ “Dinner is in ten minutes.” _

Athena’s voice pulled you from your thoughts, and you reached up, feeling the mangled mess of hair on the back of your head. How long had it been since you’d brushed your hair? It was such a simple thing you never imagined you’d missed. But here you were...quickly entering your bathroom and pulling out a hairbrush from the storage.

You turned towards the mirror that hung above the sink, looking at yourself once more. You tried not to focus on the bags under your eyes, or the permanent crease between your brows. Instead, you held onto the snarls of your hair, the tug of the strands loosening, and the soft locks that hung loosely in front of your face.

The hairbrush couldn’t fix the uneven lengths of your hair, however. You’d given yourself bangs in your hysteria in Talon, yet the lengths of each end varied. They rose like mountains above your face, uneven and dangerous. Metal fingers reached up to hold them, thumb running along the locks.

You hated it. 

_ “Dinner is in five minutes.” _

You turned from the mirror with a deep breath, exiting the bathroom quickly. You’d seen too much today, felt too much  _ forever.  _ How you wished to curl up and fall asleep, pushing aside all thoughts, all feelings, and all grief for however long you could. But you had dinner.

And so, with new clothes and uneven hair, you left your room. 

You first smelled the food when you set foot on the first set of stairs, unsure and nervous. You were scared to meet everyone, to actually sit down and eat a dinner. You’d eaten alone at Talon every morning, numb and dull from the drug injection moments prior. You’d only just begun to connect with Hoshi and Lesedi, only just beginning to possibly view them as friends.

It was hard to come to the idea of having a new family. To you, you’d had a wonderful family just around a month before now. The idea of having a new family and friends was something you hadn’t had time to think about, preoccupied with merely surviving. Now you had time to accept all your friends and family were dead.

You no longer just had to survive. You could now live - and you had no idea how to do such a thing. 

But that smell… You took a deep breath in, closing your eyes for a brief moment to fantasize about all the restaurants you’d visited. Chicago had offered a wide selection, and you’d oftentimes spent nights out with your friends.

The memory made you open your eyes, lips thinning. 

Maybe it was time to dine with...new friends?

You were kinda hungry too.

You continued down the stairs, forcing yourself to put one foot in front of the other. It was scary and frightening to walk downstairs and to not curl up and sleep. How could you go into the cafeteria everyday in Talon to eat and be drugged? Was it because the drug would keep you from feeling this fear, from feeling anything at all?

You wished the feeling would stop, but you faced it with narrowed eyes and furrowed brows. You approached the end of the stairs, finding yourself in sight of the dining room. And - holy shit that was a lot of people. 

The dining table had become longer to compensate for all the people, and you saw (and smell) all the food. It made your mouth water, but your stomach turn. Could you eat? 

You appeared to not have a choice, however. You saw Hana at the middle of the team lean backwards, looking over to you with wide eyes. A large smile curled her lips, and she waved to you. “(Y/N)! Come on over!” she said loudly, and the talking ceased for a moment. 

You paused, feeling and seeing all eyes turn towards you. Unfamiliar faces stuck out among the bright light above them, illuminating features with its glow. You shrank back into yourself before flashes of blue light broke the silence. You tried to follow the flashes with your eyes, but you were quickly overwhelmed. Lena appeared on your side in just moments, thrusting her arms in the air. She made sure not to touch you. “And this is the guest of honor! (Y/N)!” she cheered. 

Everyone at the table looked to one another before looking back to you, lifting their glasses. Smiles grew on their faces, and they all simultaneously yelled, “Here here!” 

It was loud, but you didn’t flinch. You felt a small smile grow on your own face at the sight as everyone drank, catching sight of Reinhardt downing an entire beer glass in one gulp. You were sure Torb was trying to keep up as well.

Lena let out a soft cheer as well, and you looked over to her. “Thanks,” you said, and the woman nodded.

“Any time… Now sit down and eat! Reinhardt made his famous schnitzel!” 

You nodded, and Lena disappeared again, probably returning to her seat. You looked back to the table to see where Hana was. She was laughing loudly, talking to someone across the table. Looking at her you saw that there was an empty chair, and, with a deep breath, you approached her.

You were right - there was an empty chair next to her. By the time you were behind her, she turned with a large smile, patting the empty seat. “Hiya!” she greeted, and you nodded to her, sitting beside her.

Now at the table, you were able to look around at everyone. You still felt foreign, but with Hana next to you, you felt safer...more welcome. They didn’t shoot you glares and mock you like the soldiers of Talon had done. Plus, the food looked much better. The sight made your stomach rumble slightly. 

You quickly looked around, looking to the person next to you. It was the Russian lady with pink hair - Zarya. She caught your eye, shooting a smirk and raising her glass. “Hello there,  _ Светляк, _ ” she greeted, and you nodded your thanks, unsure of what to say. 

A long time ago, family dinners were fun and warm. Here...you felt cold and out of place. You felt like a stranger as you looked around, eyebrows furrowed. There was a woman with glasses, a loving smile on her face as she conversed with Zarya. You caught her eye briefly, and she had given a large grin and wave.

You distinctly heard Hana telling you names as you looked around. The woman with glasses was Mei while Lena sat next to her. Lena was happily digging into the food, but managed to toss you a wink in between bites. Hana giggled in your ear at the sight, before you saw the man from the morning.

“That’s Jesse,” she said, and the man looked to you, smirking as he tipped his hat to you.

“Does he like Clint Eastwood?” you asked, and she giggled again.

“What gave it away?” 

You couldn’t help but chuckle before seeing a stoic man beside him. He had particularly pointy hair, a thoughtful look in his eyes. “That’s Hanzo. He’s kinda Jesse’s boyfriend,” she noted, and you hummed. There was an electric energy in the room right now, many cores and histories colliding and reaching out to you. But Hanzo and Jesse had cores that reached to one another, something you could feel even with the lack of access to your powers. Looking at them, you thought they realized that. 

The person beside Hanzo made you stop however, head tilting. Was that… “A cyborg?” you gasped, eyes widening. Hana nodded.

“That’s Hanzo’s brother, Genji,” she said, and you felt absolute wonder consume you, flushing out most of your anxiety. You rose in your seat, previously slouched and cornered in on yourself. “And that-” Hana began, raising a finger to gesture next to Genji, “is his master, Zenyatta.”

If you felt wonder in the scientific advancements looking at Genji, you were absolutely floored when you saw the one called Zenyatta. He was...a robot! But he wasn’t weird and plastic looking like “realistic” robots from your time were, and he definitely wasn’t some arm on a conveyer belt. He had a head with an actual body, and he felt your gaze.

Holy shit his head moved, and he was looking at you! You felt like a kid again with the amazement you felt. The others seemed to see him looking over to you, and Genji looked over to you. But you didn’t feel annoyance from them. No...they looked at you with respect, and understanding. 

The table fell silent, catching sight of both Zenyatta’s gaze and your childish wonder. Eyes turned on you, but for once, you didn’t notice nor did you care. No… “Are you a robot?” you asked, and the others laughed, but not with malice or mockery. Zenyatta’s shoulders moved, and...he laughed as well! You perked up. 

“I am an Omnic,” he said, and you blushed, remembering the conversation in the morning. You felt a bit silly at first, but Zenyatta spoke in such a calming voice that it soon eased over. “And you are (Y/N), yes?” he asked, and you nodded, the initial awe and wonder dulling out. 

The others are the table seemed to fall back in their previous conversations, and Hana began talking to the man in front of her. But you kept your eyes on Zenyatta, and he kept his eyes (?) on you. “Yeah, I am,” you said, and Zenyatta hummed, moving his head in an understanding manner. 

He was so...chill? When you watched him, an odd sense of ease warmed over you. “It’s a pleasure to meet you,” he said, and you offered a smile. There was an odd moment as Zenyatta looked away, a soft hum coming from him. He appeared to be in thought. You cocked your head, watching him with fascination. How could someone...something with no face be so expressive? It was amazing. 

The cyborg...Genji looked to you. It was incredible who/what he was too. You wondered what made him become a cyborg. Was he born like this? Or did it happen later on in life? “We’ve heard much about you,” Genji said, and his voice was calming just like his Master’s was. 

“Yeah?” You didn’t really know what to say. Lena had told you your disappearance was subject of national news, an unsolved mystery that was spoken of for decades. The fire you’d left was only ignited again with your reappearance.

Genji nodded. “Yes, you are incredibly strong to come so far,” he said, and you visibly recoiled at his words. He hummed, acknowledging your surprise. “You’ve seen much. After my incident, my Master helped me recover. He taught me acceptance and love.” Genji paused, looking over to Zenyatta. The Omnic was looking at him, and you saw a slight flicker of lights on his face. Interesting… “We meditate every day. You’re more than welcome to join us and heal,” Genji said, turning his attention back to you.

You paused, merely just looking at the cyborg for a moment. They didn’t seem to hurry you to reply however, and Genji’s and Zenyatta’s lights flickered together. It was...cute. Were you ready to face everything you’d seen? Were you ready to heal? “I’ll...see,” you replied, and they didn’t appear angry. Instead, Genji nodded.

“You do not have to. Join us if you would like.” He paused again, lights flickering slowly. “It took me some time, as well.” You wouldn’t have guessed. He seemed so calm, so happy sitting here. You wondered what had happened to him, his hum soft yet full. It had felt much. 

“Thank you.” 

With that, the conversation was lost to the voices around the table. Genji and Zenyatta fell into their own conversation while you fell to yourself, looking around the table. There was a number of different dishes, and you were reminded of your hunger. So with a deep breath, you reached for the plate in front of you and grabbed some food.

It was Reinhardt’s schnitzel, and it honestly looked pretty good. You’d never had schnitzel before, but today you were trying quite a few new things. Your eyes were trained on the food, however, hands holding silverware probably made by Athena. Why was it so hard to dig into the food and actually eat it? You’d been able to eat in Angela’s care, although that was oftentimes forced to not worry her. 

Why was it so hard to do almost anything? 

_ Trauma.  _

You set down your silverware. 

There was the sound of silverware being clattered, and you looked up. A man in a bright blue sweater was standing up, turning his back to you as he approached the kitchen. The others were watching him go, some appearing worried while others looked dismissive. That was...odd. Angela and Rein seemed the most concerned, the blonde woman watching the man go with a furrow in her brow.

She caught your curious gaze, and offered a small wave. Her worried expression was dropped. Damn, she was good at that. “How are you doing, (Y/N)?” she asked you, leaning forward with her elbows on the table. She looked so nice and happy, but you knew that couldn’t be true. 

“I’m doing good, thank you,” you said, mirroring the same thing you said to your therapist. He was dead too. The realization made any appetite you had disappear. Angela noticed, cocking her head in thought. The corners of her lips turned downward now. Shit, she had the doctor look. 

“You sure?” she asked you, and you nodded, eyes flicking to the man in the kitchen. His back was still turned to the table as he washed dishes. He seemed familiar. Angela noticed, quickly following your eyes before sighing. “That’s Soldier… He’s tired what with all the training he does,” she said. You nodded, humming in confirmation. It was obvious there was more to his exhaustion.

“Training?” you questioned, and Angela’s expression perked up. 

“Oh yes! Starting tomorrow, Soldier will be training you to help you hone your skills,” Angela said, and you narrowed your eyes. So soon? “Zarya will also assist you in weight training, and Lena will help you with your powers. Soldier will go over your schedule with you tomorrow,” she told you, and you hummed, looking over to Zarya and Lena. Zarya was talking with Mei, while Lena was conversing with Hana. You wouldn’t mind training with Lena, but Zarya was fucking huge. You were mildly frightened you would die. 

“Starting tomorrow?” you asked, and Angela nodded. 

“If you’re going to be a part of Overwatch, we need you to be able to fight and defend yourself. Soldier will help you with that.” You looked over to the man at that only to see him disappearing down the hallway. As he turned, you caught a glimpse of his face.

Only to see the face mask.

You took a deep breath in, eyes widening. It was him… the man who had been following you around! No wonder why he’d been so familiar. You rose to your feet without a second thought, chair nearly falling. You felt everyone’s gaze flit to you, and noticed Angela tensing. 

“(Y/N)?” she asked, worried. She was getting ready to stand up and offer assistance, but you didn’t need any.

You needed to talk to the man.

“I’ll...be right back,” you excused, quickly darting from the table. You felt the curious eyes on your back as you followed ‘Soldier’. He had been following you ever since you’d gotten here. You were sick of him fleeing from you when you demanded answers. But now...now he couldn’t get away from you.

No matter how hard he tried. 

You turned the corner into the hallway, seeing his back. He seemed to notice you, however, his head cocking to notice your sudden appearance. Your suspicions were confirmed. He was the man who’d been following you. But Soldier didn’t stop. He kept walking as though you weren’t there. 

And you weren’t gonna let that slide.

“Stop!” you yelled. Soldier didn’t, not even sparing you any mind. He acted as though you didn’t even exist. And that pissed you off. “I said stop!” He didn’t. “Stop goddammit!” you shouted, voice echoing off the walls. 

And this time he stopped.

You finally didn’t have to speed walk to get to him. You stopped now too, a furrow in your brow and lips turned down. Who the hell did he think he was? Did he think he was better than you, that he didn’t have to talk to you but he could stalk you? It pissed you off. 

Soldier turned, facing you now. Even through the sweater, you could see he was well built and tall. Normally, you would be intimidated. But through your anger and frustration, you did not back down. With a snarl, you approached him, jabbing a finger at him. 

“Who the fuck do you think you are? Following me around for days and acting like...like it doesn’t even matter?!” you growled, finger hitting his chest. Holy hell he was ripped. But you didn’t back down. You wonder what Widowmaker would say now seeing you speak, seeing you angry. 

Soldier merely looked down at you. You couldn’t get a read off his face because of the damned visor, and with your anger, it was difficult to feel his core. Even if you weren’t angry, you didn’t know how to use the hum to its full potential. Angela had mentioned this man would be training you. But what did he know of your powers? Of who you were?

What gave him the right to stalk you?

“Are you gonna say anything?” you growled, jabbing a finger back into his chest. Soldier seemed to look down at the metal, before raising his head. You felt his gaze on you. It burned.

“Watch your anger,” he said, finally revealing his voice. It was deep and gruff…  _ Like Gabe’s.  _ You recoiled at that, taking a step back. He seemed to notice, a small movement of his head confirming that. But he didn’t say anything.

You clenched your jaw, eyes flitting from his visor to the ground. The initial anger dissipated into a tired frustration that twisted and turned. You’d felt the same with Gabe. “Just...why have you been following me?” you asked, crossing your arms over your chest. You slumped a bit, leaning back on one leg. 

Everything you did was being examined by Soldier. “You’re from Talon. I was...suspicious,” he explained, and you frowned at the reference to Talon. You weren’t there’s anymore.

“Not anymore,” you said, voicing your thoughts. Soldier looked confused for a moment, but you held out an arm, rolling black your sleeve. The identification mark was no longer there, lost to your anger and fear. Metal replaced it now. “It’s gone.” Soldier nodded, and you rolled your sleeve back up. “What will...training be?” you asked now, and the man hummed.

“Standard military training. You’ll learn to run, fight and defend yourself,” Soldier explained, and you pursed your lips.

“I fought at Talon,” you said.

“With what weapon?” he asked. 

“A shotgun,” you said, before pausing. “And...my powers.” You remembered the rush of the hum when you’d teleported behind Sombra, and when you’d frozen Alzbeta. It had been...electric. You let out a longing breath. “How can I get it back? My...powers?”

“Lena will help you with that. I train you the basics… Basic strategies, defense, and offense,” Soldier said, seeming to relax now that you weren’t so angry. He still appeared uncomfortable, however, so taut and tight. You didn’t try to pick apart why however. You were the same way too. “Zarya will assist you with weight training.” 

You nodded, pursing your lips in thought. You thought back to the brief training you’d had with Reaper. Fighting you’d felt like an absolute monster, possessing abilities no other human could ever have. You wondered if you would feel the same way again. 

Soldier shuffled for a moment, seemingly to be in thought as well. You watched him, curious and he appeared to catch your gaze. “I looked over your files,” Soldier began, you bit down on your tongue, shifting uncomfortably. He didn’t stop, however. “It said...you worked with Reaper.”

“Gabe,” you interrupted, voice quiet. Soldier paused, and you felt his surprise, his incredulity. “His name is Gabe.”

“What’s his last name?” Soldier asked, taking a step forward. The movement immediately broached your comfortable space, causing you to instinctively retreat and ball your fists as your side. Soldier noticed, stopping with almost...shame? You didn’t know. But he was angry. 

“I don’t know,” you said, honest. “But I saw a portrait here… It was him,” you offered, and Soldier looked away, his own fists clenching. You watched him, recognizing the rage. Even with limited use of your powers, you could feel his core. It was twisted and knotted in his chest, flipping his gut.  _ Trauma. Hot, blinding fury.  _

_ Gabriel Reyes.  _

A soft burn chipped away at your veins, and you raised your arms. The sleeves that hid them dropped, revealing a soft glow. Your heart raced. Your powers-

“Looks like you won’t have to wait too long,” Soldier remarked, and you nodded, returning your gaze to him. There was something off about him...something that bit at you but always seemed to miss. You were suspicious of him, and you knew he was suspicious of you as well. 

But you didn’t say anything. Instead, you merely watched him, head tilted and eyes narrowed. You didn’t try to hide your distrust, but he did try to hide his. He was the first to move, clearing his throat and turning to leave.

“Training starts at 8 am sharp. I expect you there,” he said, and you knew this was farewell. His back was to you as he left, and the anger that weighed on you slowly went with him. Despite his farewell, you didn’t move for a moment, unsure of what to do.

Why did he ask of Gabe? Did he know him? If he did, were they allies?

Or were they enemies? 

The thought made you scowl, and made your mind tumble and trip. Had Soldier been stalking you because you were connected to Gabe? Did he have a motive to train with you?

Your fingers twitched.

Did he know Jack Morrison? 

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rory Johnson (reader)   
> Origins : 
> 
> Rory Johnson is a new Overwatch recruit recently rescued from Talon’s dangerous control after she found herself teleported 60 years in the future. Traumatized, she finds herself struggling to recover from the terrorist attack that awoke her powers, and the torture she underwent at the hands of Talon. 
> 
> An important mission forces her to address her lingering fear, and confront Talon itself. Tasked to intercept the organization’s forces, she finds herself face to face with enemies, friends and a lover.
> 
> Will Rory be able to protect her new family from Talon? Or will she fall to her trauma?
> 
> \---  
> Stay tuned for updates on the Zine! I'm super pumped to be a part of it : )  
> \---  
> LIKE WHAT YOU READ?  
> MAKE SURE TO LEAVE:   
> Kudos!   
> Kudos help get this story featured! With more people reading the story, there's a higher likelihood of me updating! Plus, more kudos just makes me a happy camper  
> Leave a comment!  
> Comments are the best way to leave suggestions, and your feelings. Seeing you guys even saying "i like this chapter" makes me so happy. I usually update at night so I can wake up to comments from you guys <3  
> And most importantly ...  
> Have a great day / night~!


	20. Christmas Special v. 2 (1/2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Merry fucking Christmas, ya thots.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you like sappy shit? here's some sappy shit.  
> ~~~  
> thank you all for your love and support... enjoy this cute lil piece i wrote on a whim <3

“Do you think...that we’ll be okay?”

It was a question that hung heavy on the air, tasting sweet but sour with a single lick. The weight it possessed didn’t quite match the steady snowfall outside, or the warmth of the fire inside. It was more sour than the hot chocolate being drank, but more sweet than the dread in your chest. 

It was just as bittersweet as their eventual exit would be. 

You sat, curled up in an old chair that had seen plenty of use. Your hands rest on your lap, a warm mug held tight. A soft glow came from your veins, a pleasant buzz in your head. You hadn’t felt this comfortable in… 

You couldn’t remember the last time you’d actually felt comfortable. The past and its demons were a constant gnaw on your already meatless bones. The future was another mouth you were expected to feed, yet it was one you couldn’t quite stomach.

Not yet, anyways.

The man across the chair shifted, almost with uncertainty. A soft pull at his core told you of his own sadness, his own grief. He would never truly be able to have you...not for as long as he lived. This brief moment among all the gunfire would be all that the two of you could have.

That outweighed the question.

“You will,” he said, voice quiet and deep. It micked the fire in its warmth, in its grasp, and for a moment, you closed your eyes, biting your lip. All you wanted for Christmas was this… You wanted to be near him, to be with him, and to simply be...happy. 

You knew it would end, but it was the few moments of happiness that made it all worth it. It was the sound of his voice, the look in his eyes, and the core so close to you that it almost made you cry.

This was all worth it.

“You too,” you whispered, taking a sip of hot chocolate. It was warm in your mouth, and you hummed. You felt his eyes on you, and yours flicked up from the mug, meeting his. Brown irises flickered with the play of fire, and you smiled. “You’re so beautiful,” you murmured, voice low and breathless. Most would look away, but he did not.

He held your gaze.

“You are too,” he paused for a moment, before saying, “sunshine.”

You laughed loudly at the term of endearment, almost spilling your hot chocolate. Head thrown back, you simply laughed for a moment, letting the happiness flood in. His eyes were on you the entire time, and as you calmed down, metal hand covering your lower face, you saw a smile in his expression. “Sunshine?” you asked, grinning. 

“It sounded cuter in my head,” he grumbled, but you knew he wasn’t offended. His cheeks were warm, and you knew yours were too. “Don’t like it?” he asked, and you rolled your eyes, leaning forward. He leaned towards you as well, although it was much more subtle. He always tried to hide, to lock himself away from this world and its fingers. Only you could pry him open.

You reached for his hands, your metal skin touching his oh-so human fingers. You saw his eyebrows furrow at the sight of your prosthetics, surely blaming himself, but you interrupted him by taking full hold of him. Those brown eyes turned up to you. “I love it,” you said, and you meant it. The two of you talked as much as you could, but communications could be risky, deadly even.

Often, you two merely talked about your day when you could. You always heard too much about how Lesedi and Hoshi were causing trouble. He always heard of how you hated the man. 

You two could rarely discuss…

“I love you.” 

You looked up to him, and met his gaze. The fire played with the shadows on his face, bringing out the warmth he possessed and the humanity he had. He viewed himself a monster, but you viewed him a saint.

You viewed him as Gabriel Reyes.

“I love you too.”

He raised his hand to the side of your face, cupping your cheek. A smile curled your lips as you leaned into him. “I love that smile,” he said, almost sounding...amazed? A soft prod at his core spoke of overwhelming emotions, brimming at the edge and burning at the crisps. It almost took you over, but you closed your eyes. 

“I love yours too,” you replied, and for a moment, the two of you simply were. 

You were you, and he was Gabe. 

You were not the mystery girl that defined America. You were not the victim of Talon, not the traumatized girl, and not “Nightlight”. 

He was Gabriel Reyes, not a “failed” commander of Overwatch. He wasn’t a killer, a monster, or Reaper. 

The two of you were humans - brought together by the worst of the world and the anger of its people.

And that was…

That was okay. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> have some happy holidays, ya'll. we deserve it :)


	21. Christmas Special v2 (2/2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Merry Chrysler

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> christmas featuring soldier now...  
> it felt unfair to only write reaper ; )

“You’re okay.”

It was a soft mutter in the silence of your room, lost to the closed eyes you possessed. The voice was warm...gruff in the way that life made it. The owner had seen it all, and you were almost there now too. That is why he spoke. That is why his hand was subtly hovering over the small of your back, but you couldn’t bear to look at him.

You couldn’t bear admit you were showing your weakness, that you were showing you vulnerability. The last time you’d displayed you fear, and your grief it was with another man.

_ Gabriel Reyes…  _

He wasn’t here. He was gone on some mission for Talon, forced to do their dirty work in order to live. You were more fortunate, but it didn’t make the pain hurt any less. 

And goddamn it hurt.

“You’re here.”

Where was here? 

You opened your eyes, revealing your room. But it wasn’t the room in your apartment… No, it was the room in Overwatch’s base. Justice wasn’t here to celebrate Christmas alone with you, there was no small tree you put up each year, and there was no family to visit. 

You were alone.

Your eyes finally found the man belonging to the voice. It was difficult to not see him when he wore a bright, green sweater. Lucio, Ana and Hana had spent weeks knitting it for him, eventually settling on “WORLD’S BEST DAD” to be sewed on it. You’d seen them give it to him, and while he appeared to be disgusted, it was obvious he loved the sweater.

That dumb visor still covered his face, making him look tough and mad. But a quick prod at his core revealed worry, nervousness and… Caring. You didn’t know why he cared. He got nothing from worrying over you, looking after you.

You nodded, raising your head from where it was down. You didn’t even remember shutting down, or him even coming in. One moment you’d been going down the stairs in the morning, and the next…

Oh no. 

You groaned loudly, dropping your head in your hands. The cold metal was a stark contrast against your warm skin, one that didn’t make you feel any better. But a new hand rest itself on your shoulders, prompting you to look over. 

He sat there, face hidden yet so clearly seen. You’d never seen his face before… no one really had. The old members of Overwatch had witness who he once was, but Angela had explained that after Overwatch, the mask was always there.

It hid him away from the world. You envied that. 

“What happened?” you whispered, and he looked away for a moment, not speaking. But you persisted. “Tell me,” you insisted, and he looked back. For a moment, you thought he was angry, or even embarrassed to be around you. But his core felt...scared. 

He was worried. 

“Hana mentioned it was your first Christmas since…” he trailed off, and you understood. You looked away, nodding subtly. Right...it was coming back now. You hadn’t even realized it’d been Christmas when you came downstairs. You’d been so busy with training and just trying to get through the day to really notice the holidays were approaching.

You’d walked down the stairs, barely awake when Hana, Lucio, Jesse and others jumped out, blaring loud noisemakers. It had scared you, had made your veins glow and the lights to flicker before bursting. After that, it was blurry. You’d run upstairs, tripping and panting. You’d gotten in your room, collapsing and then- 

“Soldier,” you breathed, looking to the man. He looked at you now too, eyes locking with yours even through the visor. He’d rushed in, holding onto you as you’d been locked in memories. You’d been screaming, gunfire in your ears and smoke in your nose. It had felt like forever...and maybe it had been. You didn’t know. But all you did know was that Soldier had held you through it all, sometimes hushing you and sometimes just...quiet.

And now here he sat...hand on your back and eyes trained on you. 

“I’m here,” he said, and you looked away, suddenly aware of all the fear you’d felt...that you’d  _ been  _ feeling. It’d always lingered, always bit and gnaw at your bones. You’d always feared that your bones would break, leaving you without support.

You sobbed, letting all the emotions you’d pent up rush out. For a moment, you feared Soldeir would get up and leave, abandon you to your trauma and grief. But he didn’t.

His arms wrapped around you, and he pulled you close to him. He held you tight.

And you let him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope you guys had a good christmas! make sure to have a great new year <3  
> cant wait to spend the next year with this story, and all of you!   
> \---  
> follow me at illunga.tumblr.com!


	22. The End

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The end of your (Rory's) story.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No, this story is not restarting. I'm not continuing it. And I'm not gonna give it up for adoption either.  
> I put a lot of love and time into this story, and I'm eternally grateful for all the love you guys gave back. Your support is what kept me writing, and what kept me coming back to continue it. But sadly - sometimes stories die. Sometimes you grow as a person so much that a story doesn't connect with you anymore.  
> But this piece was published in a fanzine, and looking back, I feel as though it has the final bit of closure we need. I had so much planned for this story, but your story ends with connection and love.  
> This final chapter does use first person language, and gives you (the reader) a name. I wrote this for the OC I made from the reader. Her name is Rory, and she essentially is you. Your story is hers, and her story is yours.  
> Again - Rory is an OC but she stemmed from the reader's character. Her story doesn't deviate from everything you've read. Her story is YOUR story. She went through the same events as the reader, and has the same personality as the reader. I just loved the reader's character so much that I developed the reader into an OC.   
> I wrote this for a zine, so I found it much easier to write about Rory in first-person instead of using the second-person perspective.   
> That being said - I hope you enjoy this finale. I poured a lot of love and pain and tears into this piece, and when I went back to see if it was enough for closure, I found that it was the end of your story.  
> Enjoy.

I was born in 1992 to a loving family and a vast world littered with possibilities. As a little girl, I had a cheeky grin and wished to learn of the world around me. My parents would read me bedtime stories of how a girl would fight all the bad guys, saving the world in the end. I would dress up as my favorite superhero and run around the house, proclaiming I would do the same.

I believed this when I entered elementary school. That’s how I met my best friends - Ayana and Melanie. We would spend weekends at each others houses, and would have playdates almost every other day. We found love in one another, and we promised to never stop being friends.

And I was happy.

I was happy at the stupid middle school dances we attended, dressed up in ugly 2000s outfits. I was happy when we overdid each other’s eyeliner, trying to impress the boys in our grade. I was happy to see my friends dance with those boys, nervous laughter shaking their chests with occasional quick waves to me on the side. I watched them dance, while I stood… alone.

I smiled when we entered high school, certain we would remain friends despite the odds stacked against us. We had lunch together, and had a few classes together. It wasn’t long until they found new friends in the classes we didn’t share, yet I said nothing as I sat alone at lunch.

Instead of going to homecoming together, they went with their new friends and boyfriends while I stayed home. I smiled to my parents, reassuring them it was fine. I told them I needed to prepare for a few tests, that I needed to study.

I didn’t study.

I didn’t smile as I woke up early, went to school, came home, did homework and slept. Smiling became harder until I stopped bothering altogether. But I told myself it was fine - I would find new friends, and it would be all okay. I was good - answered my old friends’ texts when they needed my help.

But again - I lost them in the crowds, lost them in the popularity of high school and the polarizing effect it had on us kids. I lost myself in the few smiles I gave, in the dismissals I waved.

Lost in my bedsheets, I did not shower. I could not move my legs, could not speak, and, more importantly, I could not smile.

“Depression,” the doctor had said, and I had been confused. Depression? I had told myself I was merely lonely...that this was just high school. Of course it would be rough if you didn’t fit in - and I didn’t.

I found my pain tangled under my covers, found my depression in the dusty corners of my room. It found me in my final year of high school, gnawing on my bare fingers as I filled out tests and college applications.

It was my nightmare, my worst dream. It was a part of me - a reminder in every pill container and therapy visit. I began to believe the pain was behind me like the middle school dances and the text messages to old friends.

I thought I lost the pain in the cap I threw in the air, under the diploma I clutched in my hand.

I thought I lost my pain when I received amazing S.A.T. scores, getting accepted into an elite state college.

I thought I lost it - but it always found me.

Everything else...everything good seemed to evade me, flee from me. The bad in the world was attracted to me like a moth to a light, fluttering and persistent.

It was only in my sophomore year of college that I found the good. I found new friends in my dormitory, and found happiness in the late nights we spent together. We would go to dances together, drink illegally together. We were teenagers...wild college kids together.

I thought I had everything figured out when I got a decent job right out of college, and found myself my own apartment. Everything made sense when I adopted my dog, raising him by myself.

But just as soon as I got used to everything being good, it changed for the worse.

I set out for a birthday shopping spree at an outlet mall not far from my apartment, accompanied by three friends in an old, blue car. I locked my door, my dog retreat into my bedroom, probably going to curl up in my blankets, inhaling my scent. I left my phone inside - a series of unread texts from my mother:

_Happy Birthday, sweetie. I’m so proud of how far you’ve come._

_I love you so much._

_Rory? There’s reports of some odd looking cars a few towns over. Please stay safe tonight._

_Rory?_

_Sweetie?_

I never read those texts, never got a final chance to tell my wonderful mother I loved her.

I never gave a final kiss to the snout of my dog.

I never spent a cent of my birthday money.

I never said goodbye.

And I left everything behind.

 

When I had contemplated my death before, I thought of dying alone, dying of old age. I feared ending up in a graveyard, a lonely headstone unattended and uncared for.

But I had not died. Everyone around me had. My friends were gunned down by terrorists who attacked the outlet mall we went to.  They shot hundreds of innocent civilians while searching for a single person, apparently a woman clothed in black. I watched as two of my friends were shot in front of me, lost to a senseless conquest of power. I escaped through the back of the store, losing my sweater on a door’s handle. I stumbled, screamed and cried as I searched for my last friend, and that old, blue car. Instead I found only bodies greeting me. Instead, I found men and women wearing all white, familiar emblems of bigotry patched onto their clothing. I was shaking, shivering from a mix of adrenaline, shock and fear. I tasted copper on my lips, heard screams in my ears and saw a man pull the trigger.

My last thought was of my black sweater, left hanging on the handle.

My friends were dead, bright lives brutally ended in search of power. My family was left behind with no explanation of what had happened to their daughter. My dog was left alone, still burrowed in the sheets he had slept in with his owner. My parents would pass eventually, with an empty spot at their funerals where a daughter would have stood.. My dog would pass away in his sleep, still laying in my blankets.

And I would find myself transported six decades in the future - still wanted for whatever power I held. I would only truly understand my abilities once an organization called Talon stormed the hospital I woke up in, killing all personnel who guarded me. I would watch my nurse take a single shotgun shell to the head, watch the doctors be mowed down by backup.

Yet I could do nothing but accept my fate when a clawed gauntlet wrapped itself around my mouth, smelling sickeningly sweet as I fell unconscious. I could do nothing when I woke up in a small cell in Talon’s headquarters, finding myself not a simple woman anymore but instead a prisoner.

As Talon’s captive, I was subjected to torture carried out by the infamous Widowmaker. Toothpicks were shoved under my nails, and I was forced to both punch and kick walls. She demanded I reveal powers I did not know I had, reveal who I truly was.

Only when my head was held under water did I finally understand myself and what I could do. As the last bit of air escaped my lungs, I stretched my fingers and felt something snap within me. I didn’t understand what I’d done at first, but the force holding me down was abruptly gone. I pushed myself out of the water with a deep breath in, sobbing and coughing.

I was greeted with applause, and when I looked to the room I was in, I found the man who had held me underwater. Instead of being killed by him, I ended his life with my powers. After seeing the potential I held, Talon promoted to me from a prisoner to a soldier.  

Whereas the leaders and officials of Talon were corrupt and full of hate, the common people  were not bad. As a soldier, I met good people who were unaware of the hate Talon held, the malicious intentions the group harbored.  I quickly understood they had to stay with Talon due to drugs. As a reward for good behavior and victories, Talon would give a dose of a drug to keep them under control.

I was no exception. I was drugged to control my emotions, control my thoughts. The drugs prevented me from truly understanding the power I held, from escaping Talon. It was only once Overwatch rescued me from Talon that I truly uncovered what I could do. No one could tell whether the origin of my powers was genetic, or if they were a strange blessing from some unidentified god, but what they did know was that I controlled energy. I could control electric energy, thermal energy, and, most importantly, life energy.

With merely a thought or movement, I could snap someone’s ‘core’ where their life energy is stored, causing them to die in an instant.  During my momentary connection to their energy, I could often feel their emotions, see their most important memories. Some cores were hollowed by sorrow if the person had been through hard times, while others were bright and electric.

When I was under Talon’s control, I could only do what they wished of me, such as tampering with someone’s thermal energy to freeze them or teleporting to someone’s core without having to snap it.

Under Overwatch’s care, I was allowed to expand my knowledge and explore my abilities. But an accident occurred shortly after I began training with their leader, Winston. After using too much energy, my body overloaded. I lost all the nerve endings in my hands, and large amounts of skin were destroyed by intense burns. My hands were replaced with prosthetics, and Overwatch realized I needed training from someone with experience.

At first, Lena Oxton stepped in. She taught me how to use my powers to my advantage, and how to get over the disadvantages they provided. Even though she was an incredible soldier, it was clear I needed more training than she could hope to deliver.

So Overwatch brought in a vigilante to train me - Soldier 76. He trained me harder than I could have imagined, and with a honed body came a honed mind. I grew deadly on the field, taking down entire squadrons by teleporting behind them, freezing them, and stealing life energy from them.

Yet despite the power I held, I found myself lost. The depression that had once eaten away at me sank back in with the memories of killing, the torture I withstood, and the friends I left behind in Talon. The ‘right’ and the ‘wrong’ I believed in became blurred around the edges before blending together entirely. I no longer knew what to do, or what to believe. The few good people I met in Talon were the people that I would soon have to fight.

The people I would have to kill.

 

“Rory?” I looked up from my dangling feet, stomach flipping with surprise. Doctor Angela Ziegler sat in front of me, black glasses hanging low on her nose. Her hair was thrown up into a messy bun, various pens sticking out of  blond strands. “Are you okay? You seem...upset.”

I raised my hand to clear my throat, trying to ignore the cool metal that briefly brushed my chin. I was still upset over losing my hands. A fake smile curved my lips, and I jerkily nodded to Angela. “Yeah, yeah… I’m fine. Just...got lost in my thoughts,” I explained, and the doctor nodded, not looking away from me for a moment.

Thankfully, she eventually looked down to the chart she held in her hands, eyes hastily skimming over whatever was written on the papers. I took this moment to fold my hands in my lap, crossing my ankles.

“And how are you doing?”

Angela adjusted her position, gently moving one leg to cross over the other with black flats covering her feet. Looking back up at her now, I noticed that under the bright, white light of her office, she looked ethereal...angelic. If not for the black turtleneck and slacks she wore, I would have been afraid she would sink into the brightness of her office, into the godly aura she emitted.

But as angelic as she may have seemed, she was a woman to be reckoned with both on and off the field. Angela could piece you together and pick you apart with just her eyes, and as I saw her gaze drift up to me, I did what I always did. I lied.

“I’m doing good,” I said, uncomfortably shifting in my seat under Angela’s eyes. This was supposed to be a regular check up, as Angela always did before a mission. After all, I would be heading out to Eichenwalde in two days to counter Talon forces.

So why was I surprised she would use this time to do a mental wellness check?

Angela cleared her throat, letting out a breathy sigh at my response. Her gaze was now serious, eyes busy with thought.

“We both know that’s a lie, Rory,” she said, frustrated. I looked away.

“What makes you think I’m lying?” I breathlessly asked, and Angela shook her head. I felt bad for making this difficult for her, but I knew better than to open up. I would be held back from this mission, held back from showing my worth.

I had to do something...had to be someone.

_I’m so proud of how far you’ve come._

Angela pursed her lips, nonchalantly shrugging. “Maybe because you’re sweating, avoiding eye contact, fidgeting and licking your lips, possibly due to a dry mouth?” Angela pressed, and I lifted my eyes to hers. She was serious, but not without cause.

She leaned forward. I tried to look away but found that I was unable to. I had to remind myself that Angela was not a Talon doctor, that she wasn’t associated with Talon in any way. Talon...Talon wanted to destroy me so they could rebuild me.Angela wanted to help me.

“Rory, be honest with me or I’m not clearing you for the mission,” she said, and my heart dropped in my stomach, a quick breath sucked in through clenched teeth. Shit. “How are you doing?”

My eyebrows furrowed, and my lips turned down into a stressed frown. My fingers played with one another. “I’m...better,” I murmured, and Angela leaned back, pleased.

“Great, now we’re getting somewhere. Better how?” she asked, taking her clipboard and grabbing a pen from her bun. Her lips were no longer thin, nor turned down. She looked younger when she wasn’t frowning.

“I’m not having as many nightmares anymore,” I admitted, and that was true. I used to have nightmares every time I slept, even when taking a nap. “Now I just have them a few nights a week, and I don’t scream anymore.”

Angela was writing, nodding while humming along. When I stopped, her eyes came back up. “Good. I’m glad to hear the new meds are working. Have you been taking them before you sleep?” she asked, and I nodded.

“Yeah, I have,” I said. So far, the questions weren’t so bad.

“Any...attacks?” she asked, and my breath caught in my throat. Memories of the random attacks where I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t speak, couldn’t move rushed back. The lack of air in my throat, the rapid hyperventilation playing with my chest...

“No,” I whispered, and Angela stopped writing, looking up at me. I wasn’t lying. “I promise,” I said.

I wasn’t lying.

“Will you be alright on the mission? I understand there are likely to be familiar faces,” Angela asked, pinning her pen back into her bun. She interlocked her fingers, wrapping them around her knee. Ahh...there was that doctor look of hers.

I thought on her question, looking away for a moment.

“I’ll be alright,” I said, and I heard Angela shift. I could feel her displeasure with my response, and I looked up at her, eyes pleading. She met my gaze, and held it for a moment before nodding, pursing her lips.

I unclenched my hands from my pants, and lifted them up, taking a deep breath in. With a simple thought, I saw a faint glow illuminate my veins from underneath the sleeves of my shirt. The glow slowly moved until it lit up the machinery in my hands with a soft, blue color.

“I’ll be alright.”

* * *

 

_My lungs hurt, my throat burned, and tears stung my eyes as I opened them. The bitter salt scalded my eyes as I peered into the dark water, squinting from the pain I was experiencing._

_Black spots were flickering in my vision, making the shadowy water even darker. I dug my fingernails into the skin of my captor in one last, desperate attempt to break free._

_But it did nothing._

_So I did the only thing I could do._

_I screamed._

A sharp force suddenly struck my cheek, and I abruptly opened my eyes to find myself looking at a window. I frowned, confused.

I sucked in a deep breath, reality slowly inking my veins in a dim, white glow. When I discovered I could breathe unhindered, I sat up, clutching my chest as I sucked in deep, heavy breaths.

My room was dark, with the shadows of clothes strewn around occupying the floor. The only bright lights came from my bathroom and the door into my room, and when I turned to look at the hallway, I found myself viewing a tall, masculine figure.

“Rory,” a familiar gruff voice said through the darkness, and I relaxed, hand dropping down as I sagged forward. I rubbed my face in relief, and found it coated with sweat from the nightmare I had been woken up from.

A deep sigh came from near the door, and the lights flickered on. I let out a groan, shaking my head without opening my eyes. “Keep the lights off,” I grumbled.

There was no reply, but the lights turned back off, submerging my room in darkness. I opened my eyes to see my dimly illuminated hands, then I lifted my head, looking towards my doorway. The man still stood there, but now his arms were crossed, and I could feel both disapproval and worry emanating from him. My powers made it difficult not to sense people’s emotions, to not hear the general basis of their thoughts.

For a few moments, we merely stared at one another, not wishing to break the silence. I felt a soft throbbing in my cheek, and reached up, rubbing the area.

“Did you hit me?” I asked, and the man sighed, shaking his head. He took a step forward.

“You were screaming. You’re gonna need your voice for the mission,” he said, slowly approaching the end of my bed. He stopped, cocking his head to the side.

I saw his visor, and I knew he was peering at me. “I’m fine, Soldier. Just-”

“Stressed? Paranoid? Worried? Troubled?” He stopped for a moment before continuing. “ _Traumatized?_ ”

“Why are you still here?” I snapped, veins brightening with my anger. Of course he would be picking me apart. He and Angela were always picking apart the team.

And I was no exception.

Soldier didn’t reply. He looked down, jaw visibly clenching even under the influence of the shadows. “I wanted to make sure you were okay,” he said, and I softly snorted, shrugging.

“I’m fine...so you can leave,” I sighed, exasperated. Soldier looked up at me, and if his visor didn’t cover his face, I was sure he would be frowning. I knew he didn’t believe me - no one around here ever did. They always believed I was in some infinite state of peril, always on the brink of going insane.

They were wrong. I was fine.

Soldier suddenly moved, letting out a sigh as he nodded, almost to himself. He turned to walk out of my room, and as he left, I found myself furrowing my brow.

I heard him stop, prompting me to throw a glance up in his direction. Soldier stood in my doorway, hand on the knob. He looked over his shoulder, directly at me. “If you need help, get help, Rory.” I looked away again, pursing my lips in displeasure. But I didn’t interrupt him, didn’t stop him. “Don’t die on that field...not on my watch,” he said, and my door shut.

My room was now totally dark and empty besides me. The feeling of isolation was a relief, and I let my guard down.

I knew Soldier was worried about me going on the mission tomorrow. When Winston had suggested I go to Eichenwalde with the team, both he and Angela had vehemently protested. They’d insisted I wasn’t ready, that it wouldn’t be a good idea considering the time I’d spent under Talon’s ‘care’. If Talon was ballsy enough, they could attempt to capture me along with whatever else they were searching for.

It was only after my own consent that Winston signed me up for the mission. My training with Soldier had intensified accordingly. Instead of heavy weight training, weapons training and fitness exercises, I was thrust into daily battle simulations. I had gone against both A.I and my teammates within the past few weeks in preparation for the mission.

The thought of the upcoming battle made my chest tighten, and I swallowed. I turned over onto my side with a sigh, pulling the cord of my lamp. My room lit up with a soft glow, and I threw my bedsheets off of me.

I swiftly dodged the clothes on the ground, kicking a few piles to the side. I never had been a tidy individual. My desk was not spared from my messy tendencies, littered with crinkled paper and random folders filled with intel on Talon and my teammates.

I cared for what I kept hidden underneath it. After a few moments, I found what I was looking for. There was my old phone, but I wasn’t searching for that. Moving aside more papers, I found a notebook that Lena had given to me shortly after I officially joined Overwatch. When asked about how she’d retrieved both items, she’d only given me a wink. “I have connections,” she’d laughed, and I’d decided not to pry.

My metal fingers gently opened the aged journal, revealing old pictures of my friends. I saw their smiling faces at college parties, at our graduations from college, drinking and laughing. A picture of my dog greeted me, and I pressed my fingers to his silly, smiling face. “Silly goose,” I murmured, before flipping the page, blinking hastily to keep tears from falling.

There were pictures of my family...of some Christmas mornings, of me as a baby crying, of my grandma and grandpa babysitting me. The last pictures from my time were of my parents hugging me in my graduation gown, my dog at my knee with his dumb smile on his face.

It felt as though it had been forever since I’d last seen them, last talked to them. I’d heard of their fates through both teammates and old news coverage. But I remembered them beyond the little tidbits of information I’d found on them...beyond the whole phenomenon that was my disappearance.

I remembered them as the photos in my book, the reasons why I kept fighting. It would be so easy to give up, but they wouldn’t want that. They wouldn’t want me to stop fighting when I came so far.

Turning the page, I found some better-quality pictures I’d added since joining Overwatch. There was a picture of Hana posing while I sat in the background, totally oblivious to her taking a picture… A picture of Lucio and I dressing up as Jazz musicians from before my time… And finally, there was picture of Sombra smiling wildly as she snapped a impromptu selfie with Reaper and Widowmaker.

I kept that photo in the back of the notebook...a secret. Overwatch was aware I had been friends with Sombra, been close with Reaper… What they didn’t know was that Sombra and I remained in contact. I would come back from missions to find various trinkets. Once, a stuffed bear greeted me on my bed, and another time, a postcard from Mexico lay on my suddenly clean desk.

I sat in my chair, looking at the picture with a bitter smile. Whatever reason Sombra had for sneakily breaking into my room to leave random things, I oddly appreciated her efforts. I appreciated her kindness, her friendliness, and even her obvious disregard of my privacy.

And tomorrow...I was expected to kill her.

I was expected to kill Reaper.

Could I do it?

Could I kill again?

* * *

 

“Can you breathe alright?” Angela asked, her voice prompting me to look up from the metal floor of the carrier my team was in. I met her blue eyes, taking in how ethereal she looked in uniform. It was almost as though she were an angel… “Rory?” she asked, bringing me back to reality by lightly pulling on my shoulder pads.

A singular panel of armor that ran down my torso felt uncomfortable, and I let out a shaky sigh. Lifting my hand to where it was pinching my skin I said, “Right here is too tight, I think.”

Angela hummed before adjusting some straps and moving the panel that connected to more flexible bands under my breasts. Getting me prepped for missions oftentimes took a while considering the equipment I had to wear.

Angela finished adjusting the bands before stepping back, looking up to me. “Test out your powers real quick” she ordered, and I nodded.

I closed my eyes, taking a deep breath as I felt my powers ignite. Something inside of me set itself aflame, and I felt a familiar burn course through the veins of my body. I knew if I opened my eyes, I would find myself glowing brilliantly from my powers. It was a side effect.

We would be landing shortly, and once we touched down, the mission would start. There was no time to waste: we had to intercept Talon and get to the payload before them, effectively capturing it. From what Reinhardt had told me, Eichenwalde’s first push would be difficult with Widowmaker pinning us down and Sombra’s hacking, but if Soldier could keep Sombra off the German and if I took care of Widowmaker then things would go significantly more smoothly.

I tried not to show how nervous I was, how much I doubted myself. I had only killed once before, and it was to keep myself alive. Would I be able to put a bullet in Sombra’s head if I had to?

Would I be able to kill Reaper?

At the thought, I felt my chest constrict, my stomach twist and turn inside me. I took a deep breath in, clenching my hands as tightly as I could. A soft hum resonated in my ears, and as it grew louder I felt a broad range of emotions and memories run over me. They were from the people around me, and I did not pry.

I felt the floor disappear from underneath me, and my body stretch to its limits. No longer did I feel, and no longer did I think. I simply _was._

The stretching abruptly stopped, and I opened my eyes. Angela no longer stood before me. I could feel her worried hum behind me now.

Turning around, I found myself staring at both Hana and Reinhardt, who were looking at me with grins. After a few stunned moments, Hana gave me a thumbs up, and Reinhardt lifted a fist, letting out a deep “Ha-ha!” Lucio popped out from beside Hana with a thumbs up too, loudly exclaiming, “Nice!” A dumb smile stretched my face as I straightened my uniform, turning back around.

I briefly wondered who I had teleported to, and found my question answered when I found Soldier sleeping in a seat to my side. I was thankful he was asleep, as he never was fond of me teleporting to him unless it was absolutely necessary.

I watched him for a moment before a loud alarm rang throughout the carrier. Surprised, I jolted back and the others got to their feet.

My gaze turned towards the carrier’s door, and I took a few steps to get a better view. An amazing castle sprawled below us, surrounded by an expansive forest. I felt my mouth opening in awe as I pressed myself against the glass of the door, watching as we slowly descended towards a town.

“Welcome to Eichenwalde,” a familiar, gruff voice said behind me, and I turned, finding Soldier awake now. His pulse rifle was in one hand, and he leaned down to look out the door as well.

“What is this place?” I gaped, and a large hand came to lay on my right shoulder pad. I didn’t need to turn to know it was Reinhardt, but I did anyway.

He wasn’t wearing his helmet yet, so I caught the wistful look on his face. “Eichenwalde...the final resting place of Balderich von Adler,” he explained, and I couldn’t help but notice the sadness in his voice. I bit my lip, looking back out over the city. It looked abandoned and in disarray. It was evident that Mother Nature was taking back what was once hers. Nevertheless, the city had not lost its beauty.

“Why...why did he die here?” I asked, ashamed of my ignorance. Yet Reinhardt passed no judgement.

He hummed. “During the Omnic War, the Omnics attacked Eichenwalde. Balderich gathered some of his best, and made one last stand,” he explained, and my gaze turned back to him. There were memories in his eyes, and I could feel both his respect and his sorrow. I lifted up my hand, and laid it over the hand on my shoulder.

“His sacrifice wasn’t wasted,” I murmured, and Reinhardt smiled, nodding.

“With their sacrifice, the German army won against the Omnics.”

“And today we’ll win against Talon,” Angela said, and I turned to look at her. She stood with her wings fully spread, a determined look on her face. Hana appeared from behind, joking around with Lucio as big grins stretched their faces.

I knew what I had to do. I could not let my team die.

I could not leave them here to lie with Balderich.

I would have to kill.

* * *

 

By the time we’d landed and assembled in the tavern, we were only a few minutes away from the start of the mission. Angela was checking her weapons, accompanied by Soldier. Hana and Lucio were listening to some music to get pumped, and their lack of worry for the mission made me envious. I could tell my vitals were all over the place as I sat at the old bar, drumming my fingers on the wood. I imagined being a civilian visiting this place with friends back in the late 2040s and early 2050s… I wonder if I would have come here with my family for a drink, celebrating good times and old memories. I had disappeared, however, and my thoughts were only dreams.

There was a soft creak to my side and I turned, spotting Reinhardt taking a seat next to me. I was surprised to see the bar stool supporting him in all his armor, and I smiled at him. He nodded in my direction before chuckling, eyes on the table. Following his gaze, I found scratchings in the wood I hadn’t noticed before. Names and hearts were permanently imprinted in the bar, and I let out a soft, interested noise at the sight.

I noticed Reinhardt’s name carved in the surface, and, with a childish grin, I looked up at him, gesturing to his name. “You came here?” I asked, and he nodded.

“They had some of the best drinks in Germany!” he explained and I smiled before looking down.

“What was it like?” I asked, voice breathless with awe.

Reinhardt didn’t reply at first, but I felt his sorrow. I felt the darkness deep in his stomach, the weight on his chest. “ _Wunderbar_ ,” he whispered.

“Alright!” Soldier called, and I spun around, lingering fear clawing itself back inside of me. Reinhardt stretched his arms, cracking his neck as he stood. He lifted his giant hammer while I grabbed my shotgun, quickly checking to make sure it wouldn’t fail on me.

“Lucio, Reinhardt and I will push down the middle. Rory, I expect you to find Widowmaker and keep her busy while we capture the payload. Angela and D.Va, be prepared to assist Rory or separate from us to add pressure,” Soldier barked. I bit my lip, looking to him. He wasn’t looking just at me, but at all of my teammates. Like a leader, he held their gaze, stabilizing them by doing so.

When I felt his eyes turn to me, I lifted my head, making eye contact with him through his visor. His expression was unreadable, but my powers allowed me to feel his energy, and therefore his emotions. There was anger swelling in his belly, and fear twisting itself around his throat. I knew he and Reaper were not on the best of terms, but I hoped there would be not too great of a clash.

I couldn’t bear to lose anyone.

With the nod of his head, we all turned and gathered at the door. We knew Talon would be aware of our presence because of the giant-ass plane we flew in on, but we still had the element of surprise up our sleeve. They hadn’t been able to extensively prepare for our arrival and our forces.

I, however, had been preparing for this for weeks. I had cried, I had bled, and I had trained myself. Holding my shotgun, I closed my eyes, taking a deep breath in.

I could do this.

No.

I _had_ to do this.

The creak of the door jolted me out of my state, and I let my breath out, moving forward. The land before me took me aback for a moment. But I did not dwell on the destruction around me, on the fallen omnics with plants sleeping upon old metal. My eyes did not linger on the craters in the ground… No, instead I stepped around them, following closely behind Reinhardt.

For such an intense moment, it was quiet. Deafeningly quiet as we slowly made our way up a small, wide road.

It was only when we turned the corner that we were finally met with chaos. A sniper shot echoed off the crumbling walls, yet Reinhardt’s shield was established in time to save whomever the shot was intended for. The hair on my skin stood up as I finally gained sight of where the payload would be.

A large tower obstructed a direct view, but that was fine. I now had an idea of where we were, and where we were to go. Lucio skated along beside me, with Angela damage boosting Soldier, who laid down suppressive fire. D.Va was behind Reinhardt’s shield as well, shooting towards the empty area under the bridge.

There was...no one besides Widowmaker in view. This was alarming, and I pulled up my shotgun, dropping behind the rest of the team slowly. I made sure to stay under the protection of the shield so Widowmaker didn’t have a clear shot, but I prepared myself for a surprise attack from Sombra, Doomfist or Reaper.

After a few moments, there was the stinging smell of...flames? I frowned, advancing with my shotgun readied. The rest of my team seemed to stop, and I heard D.Va let out a curse in Korean.

Wild, uncontained flames exploded from a room on the side of the bridge. There was frantic yelling from the team in front of me, and I saw it all.

Lucio’s aura switched to yellow to heal, and Mercy began to prioritize Reinhardt, who somehow did not drop his shield despite the flames easily surpassing his shield. A flamethrower entered view, as did a person wielding it. They were dressed from head to toe in black, and wore a gas mask to protect themselves.

Fuck.

_A wildly freckled face, stretched by large grin and obstructed by natural, curly hair… Calloused hands picking up a flamethrower for the simulation training…_

_“Call me Lesedi.”_

Lesedi.

I felt my blood chill, veins losing any glow they may have held. “Fuck,” I breathlessly whispered, shotgun briefly dropping before I shook my head. I noticed Angela tossing me a quick glance, seeing how my face paled and body hesitated. But she could say nothing, too busy caring for the team.

We all had duties to carry out, and protecting my team was mine. Taking a deep breath, I dropped back.

“Flanking!” I called before ducking behind the bridge, dodging one of Widow’s shots. I carefully moved into a hallway directly under the bridge and on our right. It was barren and empty, allowing me to easily flank Lesedi.

Lesedi was still laying down flames, and I noticed Reinhardt growing tenser by the moment. I needed to get her off of him before he caught on fire, or his armor melted.

With a purse of my lips, I advanced, lifting my gun to Lesedi’s head. By the time she noticed me, my finger was pulling the trigger. A shell of pure energy hit her, and the flames abruptly cut off. She stumbled back and Reinhardt dropped his shield, brandishing his hammer.

He swung the weapon at her, effectively throwing her to the side. Lesedi dropped to her knees, and in my haze of victory, I felt nothing. I watched her fall, understanding they would have to incapacitate her before taking the point. She looked up at Reinhardt, who prepared for another swing when a familiar voice rang out.

“ _¿Qué tal?_ ”

Fuck.

Just as the familiar words were registered, Sombra appeared from behind the team. She lay down a round of bullets into Reinhardt’s back, but before she could do any damage I sprinted towards her, firing another round of energy.

Sombra turned to face the sound of my shotgun, and we locked eyes. A smirk came on her face, a slow wave tossed my way before she disappeared, surely retreating.

“Good job,” Soldier’s voice said in my ear, and I turned to him, catching a brief nod in my direction. I nodded back, taking a deep breath to calm myself.

Sombra’s appearance had allowed Lesedi enough time to fall back to the payload, regrouping with other Talon agents. Now that Reinhardt’s shield was back up and we were out from under the bridge, I had to get an eye on Widowmaker and teleport to her.

I followed behind my team, reloading my shotgun. It took a few moments to charge it back up, but by the time it was ready, I had found the sniper. She was positioned on a ruined floor covered by destroyed stone walls, crouching as she tracked us with a close watch.

While I was hesitant to hurt the few who had showed me kindness in Talon, I had no qualms about hurting Widowmaker. My team knew this, and when they spotted her, they looked back only to see my veins glowing, eyes closing.

“Here I come, WidowBitch,” I murmured.

I breathed in.

And then I was gone, flowing through somewhere no human should touch or be part of. I had no form, no name...I just _was._

Something dull shone through the flames, through the smoke, through the anger. It was the only calm hum I felt through the chaos, and I knew it was hers. I reappeared.

Right in front of Widow.

My powers weren’t always perfect, after all.

She had not been expecting me to abruptly appear, and stumbled back, face contorting in mild surprise. I grinned at her, raising my shotgun.

I fired.

Fragments of the energy hit her leg as she threw her hand forward, grappling hook latching onto a patio across from where we were. I turned to watch her jump away, catching a glimpse of her pulling up the rifle in her arms. I knew she would take a shot at my head, so I dropped and rolled to the side. A bullet disrupted the stone beside me, yet I risked a glance towards her.

She landed on the patio and I grinned, veins glowing as I thrust my hand forward. The light from my arms intensified, and a Widowmaker’s skin began to shine. As her finger moved to squeeze the trigger, she found herself immobile. The shot meant to end my life never came.

No, instead she stopped moving completely, narrowed eyes trained on me in anger. I chuckled before looking out towards the payload. With Widow frozen, I had a few moments to survey the field. My team was easily advancing onto the objective, with Reinhardt pushing on one side as Soldier and Lucio aided him while D.Va advanced from the other side, Mercy keeping everyone  healed.

If I could keep Widow distracted and keep my eye on Lesedi, we could do this.

I distinctly heard Widow unfreeze, and I took a deep breath, locking onto Widow’s core for teleportation. I took a deep breath, listening to the soft hum her core emitted when a familiar dark cloud settled over me. My eyes snapped open, heart catching in my throat as the glow in my veins dimmed.

An angry, loud hum was bouncing off the walls, but only I could feel it. No one else had the powers to sense what was coming - or _who_ was coming.

“Look out for Reaper,” I said into the comms, heart in my throat. “He’s coming in somewhere.”

“Shit,” Soldier said. Yep. Well shit. “I’ll keep an eye out for him. Focus on Widow.”

I nodded to myself and I stretched my fingers again, trying to feel past the intense shadow that was Reaper’s core. It was harder to lock onto someone and teleport to them when he was present, but I managed to do so considering he was far away. In just a thought, I teleported to Widowmaker’s position.

Unlike last time, she was prepared, and as I reappeared, the butt of her gun connected with my jaw. I yelped, falling back against the patio’s rails. Black spots flickered in my view, but I didn’t stay down for long. I knew Widow would be aiming towards me, so I forced my eyes open to see the gun she held raised in my direction.

Gritting my teeth, I kicked at her knees, forcing her to leap back and lose her shot. I got to my feet, and by the time I regained view of Widow, she was aiming her sniper rifle at my head. Thankfully, I was able to dodge to the side just in time to hear the disorienting shock of her gun going off in my ears.

A short laugh came from my chest as Widow looked at me, displeased with my dodge. But once we made eye contact, a small, sickly smile replaced her features. “Little lamb,” she cooed, and my features contorted into an animalistic snarl as memories of her torturing me rushed back.

“I’m not so little anymore,” I hissed before running towards her. Widow chuckled as she threw her grappling hook in the air, flying over both me and the patio. She gracefully landed  in a secluded area behind the objective, and I narrowed my eyes, facing her. Her gun lifted once again, and I ducked into the building the patio was mounted on.

There were no calls from my team yet, so I assumed the fight was going well. I huffed a piece of my hair off my sweaty skin and bolted down the stairs. Once I rounded the staircase, a shot rang out, and a sharp sting of pain cut my arm. I hissed, dropping low behind a large, dusty chair.

I pressed my back against the piece of furniture, cursing to myself as I looked at my arm. My uniform was torn, and closer examination revealed a small, bloody cut. I was lucky not to have been killed, and it was evident that Widow was toying with me.

That pissed me off even more.

I bit my lip, looking out to my team. They were on the point now, and working on securing it. I had to keep Widow busy, but going out into the open put me in a vulnerable spot. She had her eyes on me, and one wrong move could result in my death. A chilling thought swept through me… It was possible she hadn’t killed me yet because Talon wanted to recapture me for further testing. Memories of the toothpicks under my skin made my skin crawl and stomach flip.

I couldn’t go back - but  I couldn’t let my team down.

With a deep breath, I closed my eyes and reached out through the dark veil Reaper had established. His presence felt heavier now, and I was sure he was approaching my team. But they knew he was closing in, and Soldier was surely prepared. I had to stay to my mission. Widow’s core was still cool, but I could tell she was enjoying the chase she and I were sharing.

“Gross,” I mumbled before disappearing. I felt my body and core stretch as I moved towards her, stopping just shy of where she was. When I reappeared, I instantly dropped to avoid a shot she was surely preparing.

A knee connected with my nose, and a sickening crack followed. I let out a cry as I fell back, darkness consuming my vision. My head hit the ground, a sharp pain striking me as I groaned. “Fuck,” I whimpered, trying to roll to my side to get back up.

A heeled boot pressed down on my chest, and I weakly opened my eyes to see Widow above me. A disgusting but familiar smirk twisted her features, and she tsked. “Poor little lamb,” she cooed before leaning down. I narrowed my eyes up at her, clenching my fists. On cue, my body began to burn with my powers, and Widow let out a soft laugh before reaching behind her for-

I couldn’t see as Widow suddenly shouldered her weapon, taking her heel off of my chest. I tried to jump up and fight back, but as soon as I bent upward, Widow leaned back down. Her face was uncomfortably close to mine, and I could see the deranged excitement in her eyes. My stomach did a flip as one of her hands wrapped itself around my throat, long fingernails digging into my skin hard enough to draw blood.

I choked, hands coming up to claw at her own. My eyes were wide as I stared up at her, trying to find a core to latch onto. But the shadow of Reaper’s presence was suffocating at this point, and I found nowhere to flee to. Widow knew this as my eyes flitted to the objective, only seeing the payload and not my friends. “You were always so weak,” she whispered.

I opened my mouth, but nothing came out. Widow shook her head, and I felt a prick in my neck. If my eyes had been wide before, they were bugging out now. I knew what that prick was...knew what it meant.

And Widow knew too. As my hands weakly grabbed at hers, I felt my body slumping, felt my emotions fading… And as I felt myself slacken, the grip around my throat weakened before letting up completely.

I lay there, eyes trained on the sky as I simply breathed. The noises of battle were little to nothing now, fading out into the loud hum of Reaper’s core. I only distantly felt fear for my team and myself. It was easier to sink into the comfort of the drug Widow had injected into me, and I had no objections when Widow pulled me to my feet, turning me to look at the payload.

On my feet now, I had a better view of what was happening. The sound of harsh shotgun blasts bounced off the wall, and I knew Reaper was present.“N...No,” I gurgled, and she hushed me, lips grazing over my ear. I was sober enough to feel horror as the cries of my teammates followed the shotgun blasts.

“Lucio!” D.Va screamed. A shotgun blast interrupted Hana’s cry, and a soft, wet sob came shortly after.

“No!” I whimpered, throat closing up with my tears. “No! No!”

“This is because of you,” Widow murmured to me, fingers ghosting over the cut on my arm. Her fingernail dug into the wound, and I hissed, pulling away. But she held me against her body as I heard Angela yelling for the team to hold on. Why hadn’t she resurrected them yet?

“Rory!” Angela screamed, and I pushed off of Widowmaker. She let me go, and I stumbled towards the stairs, the world twisting and blurring in my vision.

“H-Hold on!” I weakly shouted, putting one foot on a stair. I tripped over my foot, and smacked my head on the stone steps. But I didn’t let that stop me… I couldn’t let the ache from my nose slow me, couldn’t let the sharp throb in my head keep me from helping my team.

So with a groan, I crawled up the stairs on my hands and knees.

When I finally got to the top of the stairs, I pushed myself to my feet. My arms were thrust out in front of me to keep me from falling, and I slowly made my way to the other side of the payload.

The sight that greeted me made me collapse to my knees with a scream, drug unable to minimize my fear. Lucio lay on the ground just in front of me, a bloody pool forming around his still body. I crawled over to him, sniffling to myself as I pulled him over. His eyes were closed, chest barely rising and falling.

“No, no, no, no, _no,_ ” I sobbed, shaking as I looked up. Reinhardt was collapsed just at the top of the slope leading to the payload. Crawling towards him revealed Hana out of her mech, collapsed in front of him. She must’ve been hit while running to Lucio, as she was on her stomach with a nasty bullet wound in her back.

“No,” I gasped, before pushing myself to my feet. I’d heard Mercy… I’d heard her cry and call for me. Frantically looking around revealed her limping out of the computer repair shop near the bridge. My eyes widened, and I reached for her, shakily moving towards her.

Her eyes were wide with fear, and she took off towards me. “Rory!” she whispered. But just as she took flight, a shotgun blast interrupted her. Angela collapsed on the ground.

I might’ve been screaming…I wasn’t sure as I stumbled over my feet, running towards her. I couldn’t help but notice Soldier’s body just below the bridge, and in that moment, I understood.

Reaper had come from behind, and had taken Soldier by surprise.

A strangled sob came from me as I collapsed on top of Angela, pulling her onto my lap. She was still somehow conscious, eyes fluttering open as she stared at me. “Angela,” I sobbed, hands on her cheeks. I rubbed away the blood on her face, shaking my head. “Don’t-don’t leave me.” Her hand came to rest over my own, thumb rubbing circles into my skin.

“Rory,” she whispered. Her eyes fluttered shut as unconsciousness took her, and a guttural scream came from me, my head bowing to rest on her forehead.

Loud footsteps approached me, but I did not look up. Instead, my tears dripped off of my skin and onto Angela’s, hopelessness mixed with helplessness. The footsteps stopped just before me, and I sniffled, looking up.

Reaper stood over me, looking down at my injured body. His core reached out to me, loud and conflicted. I swallowed my tears, and spoke softly. “Why...why did you do this?”  I knew it was a stupid question. He had to fight Overwatch, just as I had to fight Talon. I had to shoot him and he had to shoot me.

But instead of shooting me, he replied. “You know I had to.”

I did know, and I understood. But I did not accept… I did not accept that we had to do this, had to hurt each other. He had helped me in Talon. He had given me blankets, given me water and had personally trained me. He had given me soup to eat, someone to talk to.

He had given me someone to love.

“You can come back,” he said, voice barely above a whisper. My eyes did not move from Angela’s bloodied face, and I brushed off some dirt on her skin, shaking my head.

“I don’t want to come back.” I looked up. “They’ll kill me… And they’ll kill you,” I murmured, and Reaper moved his gaze above me, surely to his allies. They would leave my team here to die, but they would not leave me.

Not when I had the powers I did.

“I won’t let them.”

“You let them torture me,” I hissed.

“I didn’t know you, Rory. You were some crazy, dangerous little girl, and Talon needed you,” he growled, frustrated with me.

“They need me to kill, and I will not kill. It’s not right,” I choked out, begging him to understand. “It’s not the right thing to do!”

“And it’s alright do it for Overwatch?” he asked, and I looked away from him, back down to Angela. He followed my gaze. “She couldn’t help me...couldn’t stop what happened to me.”

“I know...” I murmured. “I know...and I’m sorry. But I can’t. I can’t go back to Talon. You know what they’ll do to me… They’ll brainwash me,” I whimpered, remembering the daily drugging sessions. I couldn’t do that again… I couldn’t let them lay a hand on me again.

Never again.

“I won’t let them,” he insisted and I shook my head, frustrated and desperate now.

“You can’t stop them - they don’t give a shit about what you want, _Gabe!”_ I yelled, throwing my hands up in the air. He tensed at the mention of his name, and I felt tears rapidly rush over my dirty face again. “They only want to _win._ ”

There was silence on the field now.

Footsteps disrupted the quiet, and I turned. Lesedi approached me with her gas mask off and in her hand, looking beautiful with her wildly freckled face and natural, curly hair. She looked worried, eyebrows turned up and lips turned down.

Someone jumped down from the ruined patio, gracefully stepping out from behind the payload. It was a Japanese woman...one that I recognized immediately.

“Hoshi,” I whispered, and the only indication she made of hearing me was a small nod tossed my way. A pang of sadness came over me as I remembered Lesedi and Hoshi’s kindness to me in training with Talon...how they took me under their wing and protected me in simulation training. They had been...friends, and fighting against them was hard.

“Come back,” Reaper said, and I whipped my head around to look at him. I was aware that I looked distraught - white uniform bloody and face tear stained. Reaper’s core twisted as he looked at me, and took a knee. His red eyes peered at me from under his mask, and I held his gaze, longing heavy and coiled in my stomach. “I miss you,” he whispered, just loud enough for me to hear.

A sob came from my throat, and I swallowed it, shaking my head. My expression was ugly as I bit out, “I miss you too.”

“Come home.”

I didn’t know what to do… Could I abandon my team, and leave them here to either die or be extracted? Could I return to Talon and be with Gabe...be with Lesedi and Hoshi?

Could I?

I took a shaky breath and looked down to Angela’s face. She looked angelic…

I understood.

There was one last chance, and it was my ultimate ability - Supernova. In small and controlled uses, it would be able to pull life energy from enemies and use the stolen energy to heal teammates in the immediate area. But with the amount of healing I had to do, it was possible my body would overload.

It was possible I would die.

So I closed my eyes, and lifted my hands to Reaper’s face, smiling through my broken nose, concussed head, and drugged body. “I’m sorry,” I whispered.

I closed my eyes.

It wasn’t hard to latch onto Reaper’s core, as it was strong and loud. It wasn’t hard to take all of the life force he had, as I knew it would not kill him. I felt him disappear underneath my hands, and with all of his energy now in me, I felt my broken nose heal, my head no longer pound, and the drugs lose any potent effects. But his emotions...they stayed. The fear, the anger and the desperation swelled in my chest as I felt all the cores around me sing.

And as soon as I felt them all, _I pulled._ I pulled their life force into me, leaving just enough for them to breathe and survive. All of their energy set me aflame, and I opened my eyes, a scream tearing apart my throat as my power burned me.

I pulled all of the energy into my chest, closing my eyes as tears dripped and dried on my cheeks. I felt my allies’ cores...felt their lives trembling and shaking as they died. I felt their fear, their pain and suffering as they left this world for another.

And I let it all go.

All the energy that was in me flowed into my allies, healing them immediately. I heard Angela gasp, sitting up as she clutched at her chest. Her weight left my lap, head hitting my chin but I did not feel it. I merely sat there for a moment, trembling and shaking as I witnessed Lucio cough, Hana’s bullet wound heal, and Reinhardt grab his hammer.

And despite the burning within me, I softly laughed as all my teammates got to their feet while my enemies fell.

I had never given much thought to how I would die, but I wanted to go down doing the right thing. I wanted to be someone...to be a hero who defeated the bad guys.

As my family came back to life, I smiled.

And I died.

* * *

 

I was cold… So, so cold. I couldn’t stop shivering, couldn’t stop searching for some heat.

So I opened my eyes.

The boring walls of my room in Overwatch greeted me, and I let out a breath, furrowing my brow. Where… Where was I? The last thing I remembered was Reaper...and my team and…

I jerked upright, sucking in a deep breath as I clutched my chest. I could breathe! I was alive! My eyes were wide and I looked around, remembering the bullet in Hana’s back and Soldier’s motionless body. Were they alive? Were they okay?

A loud beeping echoed in my room, and I looked around for the source. A monitor was next to my bed instead of my nightstand, and it showed my vitals. I looked down to my arm to see an I.V in my skin, and I reached down to take it out when a hand wrapped around my own, stopping me.

I looked up, surprised. Soldier stood there, peering at me through his visor. A sob broke from my throat, and I threw my arms around him. I pulled him towards me and I could hear him clear his throat, uncomfortable. But I didn’t care.

I held Soldier as I sobbed, letting out all the fear I had felt. I had listened to them all die. I had _felt_ them die.

But Soldier was here….he was here and he was alive.

“Are they… Are they alive?” I choked out in between sobs, and I felt Soldier nod against my head. I let out a cry at this, but it was not one of fear.

It was one of happiness.

“Yes… Yes they are,” he said, and I pulled back from Soldier now. I was hiccuping and sniffling, and Soldier took a long look at me, before shaking his head with a sigh. He leaned away from my bed, taking a seat in a chair beside my bed. I furrowed my brow, a hiccup coming from me as I rubbed away snot.

“Rory… You know you died, right?” he asked, and I stopped moving for a moment. I only remembered everything going black, and nothing else. I didn’t say anything...unsure of what _to_ say. So Soldier spoke for me. “Your heart stopped for ten minutes and thirty four seconds. Mercy had to resurrect you two times before you were stabilized, and you almost lost your arms because of  all the energy you fucked with,” he explained, and a nod from me was the only immediate response.

Instead of crying, I swallowed, and looked back up at him. “But you all lived?” I asked, and Soldier sighed, leaning back in his chair. He crossed his arms, merely looking at me before answering. “Did _anyone_...die?”

Soldier noticed the last part of my question, and shifted. “Everyone’s alive… And we got Balderich’s remains,” he said, and a big smile made my eyes crinkle. I understood what he meant.

I didn’t have to kill.

“Good…” I said, eyes drifting over to the side of my bed. A familiar book sat there, and I perked up at the sight of it. Soldier noticed, and snickered, passing it towards me.

“The others wanted you to have this… They’re all sleeping right now,” he explained and I flipped the book open.

At first, I saw the same old pictures from before. I saw my old friends, and saw my family. My fingers drifted over their faces, and I wondered if they would be proud of me. I flipped a page, and my heart did what felt like a somersault.

There was an entire new page of pictures the others had taken with me. There was one picture Hana had taken when I had done a livestream with her, per her request, whip cream covering our faces after a dare from the viewers. There was a picture of Tracer and I wearing all British and American clothes, of Winston and I watching old sci-fi movies together, and me passed out after a drinking competition with Torb and Reinhardt.

And there was one last picture…of Hana and I doing bunny ears to Soldier. I smiled at that, running my finger over the photo.

I then noticed the caption at the bottom of the page.

_Love,_

_Your family._

I smiled, blinking away the tears in my eyes as I looked to Soldier. He looked back at me before scooting closer, resting a hand on my shoulder.

“You did the right thing, Rory,” he said, and I caught a glimpse of familiar smoke disappearing from the patio outside my room. It drifted into the air, and I watched it leave.

A familiar pull on my core tugged at me, and I looked down at the picture book.

_My family._

I smiled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again - thank you all so much for your kudos, your comments, your subscriptions, your time... It means the world to me.  
> If you want more reader inserts, check out my AO3 profile.  
> And most importantly...  
> Have a great day/night.  
> Thank you.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you.


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